


Sheltered

by Asimi_Shadowborn



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Friends to Lovers, Heavily hinted Yuutarou/Kunimi Akira, M/M, Meme team shenanigans, Two Pining Idiots, Watari has no time for their pining, Weekly Updates, Yahaba wants to say 'fuck' more times than Oikawa says 'Iwa-chan', i only write happy endings, just the right amount of miscommunication
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-28
Updated: 2019-10-25
Packaged: 2020-10-30 03:20:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 36,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20807675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Asimi_Shadowborn/pseuds/Asimi_Shadowborn
Summary: "The wish for Yahaba and he to resemble their senpai dies right then and there, a bark of laughter escaping him at the idea. He ignores Kindaichi’s surprised glance as he goes to retrieve the ball he just spiked over the net. Yahaba would rather explode than let that happen, and Kyoutani might be gay, but that doesn’t mean his taste in men is as bad as his social skills."Sheltered[ shel-terd ]1. protected or shielded from storms, missiles, etc.2. protected from the troubles, annoyances, sordidness, etc.3. of a business or industry: enjoying noncompetitive conditions, as because of a protective tariff.4. of or relating to employment or housing, especially for persons with disabilities, in a noncompetitive, supervised environment.or 5. A combination of: two stubborn teenage boys, team bonding, homemade soup, dog walks, courting tips and drinking gamesNow with THE MOST WONDERFUL ARTWORK byRedd! :D (warning: contains slight spoiler for chapter 2)





	1. So would you fight for it?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [doodeline](https://archiveofourown.org/users/doodeline/gifts).
**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"The wish for Yahaba and he to resemble their senpai dies right then and there, a bark of laughter escaping him at the idea. He ignores Kindaichi’s surprised glance as he goes to retrieve the ball he just spiked over the net. Yahaba would rather explode than let that happen, and Kyoutani might be gay, but that doesn’t mean his taste in men is as bad as his social skills."_
> 
> Sheltered [ shel-terd ]  
1\. protected or shielded from storms, missiles, etc.  
2\. protected from the troubles, annoyances, sordidness, etc.  
3\. of a business or industry: enjoying noncompetitive conditions, as because of a protective tariff.  
4\. of or relating to employment or housing, especially for persons with disabilities, in a noncompetitive, supervised environment.  
_or 5_. A combination of: two stubborn teenage boys, team bonding, homemade soup, dog walks, courting tips and drinking games

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey hey hey! This work is the second of a series of fics that I’ve been wanting to work on for the longest time. I can’t wait to share more fics with you all in the future and I hope you enjoy this one as much as you did the first one! ^^
> 
> A special thanks goes out to my wonderful beta [AnneLilian](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnneLilian/pseuds/AnneLilian)! Thank you once again for letting me drag you into the Haikyuu!! fandom and thanks for all the work you put into rereading this!! (also; our 3-hour conversations to edit this shizzle were dope – I loved it!) 
> 
> I also want to thank Adeline/Doodeline, who’s one of my favorite artists as well as a treasured friend. She’s created a wonderful [Kyouhaba piece 'Shelter'](https://archiveofourown.org/works/9442862) that has been the very thing that prompted me to create this AU, more than a year ago. (I do want to point out that the piece itself has no real link to my story – but the love shown in the drawing did inspire me to create this AU). Please go check out her art on: [AO3](https://archiveofourown.org/users/doodeline/pseuds/doodeline), [Art Tumblr](https://doodeline.tumblr.com/), [Personal Tumblr](https://meridianae.tumblr.com/), [Instagram](https://www.instagram.com/doodelineart/) and [Twitter](https://twitter.com/doodelineart). 
> 
> My next 'thank you' goes to two friends who’ve helped me create this story before the first words were written: Atinyarmycarat and Buddy-Sharono-Na-wa!! Thank you Atinyarmycarat, for being a wonderful miracle babe and generally great person – if it weren’t for your contagious enthusiasm when I sent you Doodeline’s art and started a random conversation about Kyouhaba storylines, his story would never have existed. And thank you Sharono-Na-wa, for becoming someone so close to my heart in such a short time as well as for your contributions to the notorious 4th chapter. I’m really proud to call you one of my best friends and I hope that we can grow even closer in the future.
> 
> A usual ‘thanks’ goes to Sil-chan, who’s the other half of my writer’s brain and who keeps encouraging me, even though I bother her way too many times with my AU ideas! (Danku Sil-chan; ik zou zeggen dat het gaat minderen in de toekomst, maar we weten allebei dat dat een leugen is ;p)
> 
> * * * 
> 
> I’m sorry that it took such a long time to get my second work out into the open. I moved in with my boyfriend in August and my beta recently moved as well, making it really hard for us to find the time to rework the story and fish out (hopefully most of) the mistakes. My perfectionist streak forces me to finish my whole story before I start posting – which also means that there will be fixed days on which I post new chapters.  
This story and its titles were based on a song which I’ve loved for years; [’Make-Up’ by The Hardkiss](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZJAYHQty9Gk). (I always think of the dark black lining Kyoutani’s eyes when they sing ‘my make-up is my armor’ #Maddogeyeshadowconfirmed :v) There’s a second song that has heavily influenced me while writing this fic, which will be tagged in the begin notes of that particular chapter.
> 
> *
> 
> _The last comment that I need to make before I invite you to read this new story is connected to a specific element that I’ve used in my first chapter. _ In Japan, you can say ‘I like you’/”suki desu” to objects/animals, but not to a person. ‘Suki desu’ is apparently only said to another person when you really like/love them – it isn’t intended to be used lightly, otherwise you might confuse people. I’ve kept the word Suki in Japanese, because there was no good translation that fitted what I wanted to depict in the story.

_ (8 weeks ago) _

Numb.

If anyone asked how Yahaba Shigeru was feeling right now, that would have been his answer.

Even the anger and disbelieve he’d felt right after their loss – still so strong that it felt like it would _literally_ crush him, had been better than this… nothingness. It’s what keeps him calm as he helps unload their bags off the bus and ushers the first-years back to the gym. There’s still one last speech they’ll receive from their coaches before they’re allowed to head to the ramen restaurant.

*

He only catches the end of coach Irihata’s speech.

“-did your best-“

The couch’s words wash over him without registering.

“-proud that you all-“

The numbing fog that’s been surrounding him for the past 1 and a half hours is slowly evaporating. 

“for the future.”

It’s a good thing that the speech ends the moment it does, because Yahaba can’t control the rush of anger that crashes back into his body at those words.

‘_What future?!_ It needed to happen _now._ _Today_ had been their shot. The third-years’ last shot. And it was lost. Gone forever… Because of those _stupid_\- because of-‘

“Shigeru. Come with me for a second.”

The rest of the team is still talking as he follows Oikawa deeper into the gym. It no longer feels like he’s walking in a dream – the resurfaced anger in his veins burns too hot, sharpening his senses and rendering him unable to ignore his surroundings.

“Yes?”

“Senpai?”, he tries a second time, causing Oikawa to huff and pull his mind back from whatever place it just went to.

“Right. I need to talk to you about next year.”

If it hadn’t been for all the respect Yahaba harbours for Oikawa, if he hadn’t _seen_ the hours and _hours_ of work the setter put in, always giving it his all, Yahaba would have never believed that the boy before him just lost the dream he’d been cherishing for 6 years. Maybe even more, if he’d count primary school. No one who saw them right now would guess that Oikawa is broken because of their loss. His gaze is too sharp, too focussed. It’s the expression of a leader – already planning their next attack instead of weeping over their losses, like the rest of his subordinates.

Oikawa doesn’t wait for Yahaba to react. He knows his kouhai is listening. Yahaba always listens.

“From now on you’ll start acting like the new captain. You’ll have the same position as me. It’s a transition period, in a way, just so you can get used to the… feeling.” Yahaba wonders for a second what Oikawa was planning to say, only to realize immediately after that he’d rather not know. He can see most of the team heading for the exit behind Oikawa’s back, confused for a second when he can’t find blond in-between the others. ‘_Of course,_ he left already.’

Oikawa pays no mind to Yahaba’s sudden scowl, going on by saying: “All of the third-year regulars will be at practice until graduation, even though some might take a break during exams.” 

Yahaba nods. He expected all of this.

“Now then-” Oikawa’s smile broadens, even though his eyes remain serious. “-there’s something else I needed to talk to you about.”

Yahaba can’t come up with a single occasion when that sentence has been followed with good news.

“Every year, Irihata and Mizoguchi ask for the opinion of the current captain and vice-captain before making their final decision. They asked Iwa-chan and me two weeks ago, and after today I’m even more convinced that we made the right decision.”

“You’ll be captain, of course,” he mentions quickly, misinterpreting Yahaba’s frown. In all the commotion and tension of the last couple of weeks, Yahaba’d honestly lost sight of the fact that Iwaizumi needs a successor too. “They agreed on you and Kyoutani fairly quickly. I think they’ll probably announce it next-”

“_Kyou-?!_ What?”

Shigeru’s confusion only deepens at Oikawa’s raised eyebrow. “We chose you and Kyouken. It’s custom for the ace to be vice-captain if they weren’t chosen for the leading position, but we’d have settled on Kyouken either way. _No_, don’t interrupt me. I’m not finished.”

Yahaba grinds his teeth angrily. What the _fuck_ are they thinking?!_ Are_ they even thinking _at all?!_ Like it isn’t already hard enough that he has to enter his captainship following up after _Oikawa_, he’ll also have to do it with Kyouken, of all people? Playing one game together and managing a team isn’t the same at all.

Oikawa doesn’t wait for him to voice all this though, stubbornly pushing on. “Really, you need to learn how to work with him, Shigeru. You two need to get closer. A _lot._ Forming a unit with your vice-captain should be the core of every strategy. You need to build a solid foundation for the team, and you’ll need someone who’s as strong as you are, to achieve that kind of support.”

“Support?! That guy is obstinate as _fuck_, he’ll never want to work together.”

“You _know_ that’s not true.”

Oikawa raises his chin, unimpressed as Yahaba steps forward, ready to defend his opinion.

“I’m telling you all this beforehand because you’re prejudiced. Don’t look at me like that – it’s true. Even though you’re in the same grade, you’re far more hostile to Kyouken than any of the other players. He doesn’t act the same – like you. _No_, he _doesn’t,” _Oikawa insists. “I heard about his reaction when he switched with Kunimi. Despite his personality – no, maybe _because_ of his personality, he listens to you. You not being intimidated by him is a good thing. You can’t use Kyouken if you’re scared. But ignoring his potential might prove to be even more destructive than cowardice.”

“I’m not ignoring-“

“You are. By avoiding bonding with him, you are. As long as you two work together, I don’t care what you guys think. Just form the connection. You’re a setter, you should know this already; to play well, to _truly_ play well, you need to be able to assess and trust your players equally. That goes doubly for your ace.”

“He’s right, you know.”

Yahaba’s only saving grace is that he doesn’t outright yelp, even though he still lets out a little squeak of surprise at Iwaizumi’s interruption. The rest of the gym’s empty by now – the rumbling of their teammates’ voices still audible from outside.

Yahaba sighs. “’S easy for you to say. You’ve known each other all your lives, I’ve barely spoken to Kyoutani in weeks. He only listens to you anyway.”

“Yeah, well, you’re right about that part – trust isn’t something you build up overnight. As for the second part,” Iwaizumi grins, “it’s true that our next ace might have a small issue with- I mean, it’s not easy to earn his respect, for some people.” He laughs at Oikawa’s annoyed huff. “I wouldn’t worry about it too much. You have what it takes, just trust each other. Or try to, at least.”

Shigeru lets out a sigh. “He doesn’t trust me. At all.”

“You know; you two are quite alike, in my opinion.” Iwaizumi crosses his arms at Yahaba’s snort. “I’m serious – you are more alike than you think. And by the way, we’re not saying that you have to put in all the effort yourself. Gaining trust isn’t a one-way street. There’s two of you; make him work for it.”

“He dislikes authority? He hates it when he’s given commands – this isn’t going to work.” Yahaba knows his excuses are running thin, but he still has to try.

Oikawa shrugs. “That would happen anyway, even if he doesn’t become vice-captain.”

“I don’t know,” Iwaizumi jumps in, “I think it only bothers him when you try to use him in the wrong way, even more so when he doesn’t respect the person who’s attempting to control him. But I think he kind of does. Respect you, I mean.”

Oikawa uses Yahaba’s surprise to add: “You should ask Watari for help too, he’s always been a force of support for the whole team, and he doesn’t care about Kyoutani’s lack of proximity to the others – he still cheered during the match. I heard him. Anyway – form your unit. The more you all get closer, the better, but at the very least; every player needs to be connected to you.”

“I-“

“He agreed, you know. Quite easily, in fact.”

Yahaba closes his mouth, stunned into silence at the ace’s words.

“I know that you’re worried because of the… Whatever it is, between you two – but it’ll be okay, I think. You’re the only one who was able to calm him down during our matches, even if you used a… _different_ method. He listens to you. Maybe begrudgingly so, but he still does. Just go for it, and you’ll get there.”

* * *

“All right.”

In the end, getting cornered by Iwaizumi didn’t really come as a surprise. Kyoutani had felt his senpai’s eyes on his back since the moment they’d entered the gym together – only escaping his gaze during the coaches’ talk, after which it returned full force. The now _former_ ace’s expression is a stern one, but he doesn’t seem angry; his features softened by the redness still clinging to his eyes. Kyoutani meets him head-on, unflinching when a broad hand clamps down on his shoulder and silently steers him away from the others – back outside, where they can’t be overheard. It’s like the ace’s hand is _squeezing_ the courage out of him; his nerve to look his senpai in the eye shrinking with every step. He’s been anticipating this since the moment the ball hit the court behind their captain.

He fucked up.

It’s quite simple, really. Yahaba’s yelling had shaken him out of it, but still – it hadn’t been enough. How is he supposed to surpass Iwaizumi if they won’t play on the same team anymore? He might’ve wanted to best the ace – but mostly to prove that he could do _better_, that he could _definitely_ fill the shoes Iwaizumi would leave behind. He wanted to be the strongest. Right now though, he can’t even muster up enough strength to lift his head and look his senpai in the eye.

It’s a blessing that it’s Iwaizumi who’s come to tell him off, at least, and not _Oikawa_. He frowns as he considers this. Maybe the airhead had decided Iwaizumi would be best, since he’s the only third-year Kyoutani will show any respect to. That way of reasoning is plain _stupid_. Respect isn’t something you randomly give, just because the other person is older; it’s earned. If the other third years wanted respect, they just should’ve-...

He’s shaken from his thoughts as he hears something slide down the wall. Iwaizumi’s sat down, tapping the ground next to him twice with his knuckles, not even _looking_ at Kyoutani. Kentarou hesitates for a second. If he sits down, he’d be much slower to get up and leave when he feels the need to, but at the same time…

“Sit with me.”

Iwaizumi’s voice is hoarse. It’s unsettling, and Kyoutani’s body moves before he knows it – taking place next to his senpai. His eyes focus on the school grounds instead of the concrete surrounding the gym, scowl deepening while he awaits the scolding. He wonders if he should apologise before the other boy can get too angry.

The tension in Kentarou’s shoulders grows stronger with every second of silence. He wants this to be over already. He wants to stand up and leave, to just ignore that all this has happened. A voice echoes through his mind while he’s debating this option – Yahaba’s command to _‘not forget this sight’_. Their promise that they’d make Karasuno pay next year, Yahaba flanked by the new ace and their libero. He can’t go back on his promise now. He has to-

“Oikawa asked me to talk to you.”

Kyoutani can’t help the way his shoulders jump when Iwaizumi finally starts the conversation. While he was silently begging for the silence to be broken only seconds ago, Kyoutani now wishes that the quiet would have lasted longer.

“I won’t say that I’m an exceptional ace, but still, the position is mine. And since it’ll now be yours, soon, there are some things that need to be said.”

“I’m sorry.” It’s soft and grumbled, and Kyoutani doesn’t look at his neighbour while he says it – but Iwaizumi hears it anyway.

“What for?” It sounds more like a statement than a question. “You always give it your all. That’s what you believe in, right? That that’s what you need to do, to be satisfied? As long as you do that, there’s no need to apologize.”

Kyoutani finally turns to face him – his confusion poorly hidden by his frown. If the point of this conversation isn’t to berate him, then he doesn’t know what is.

“I want to talk to you about next year. All of the third-year regulars have decided to stay and oversee training, even if we won’t necessarily be at every practice.” There’s a short pause, both of them looking at passing students on the other side of the soccer field. “I don’t know if you really want to hear what I’m about to say, but it doesn’t matter. You’re a good player. And you’ll be a good ace,-” Kyoutani perks up, slightly nervous to hear the rest of the sentence. There’s always a ‘but’. “-you could even be a _great_ one, but-” Here it comes. “your teamwork _definitely_ needs more effort.” Kyoutani’s shoulders sag down again. It’s not like he doesn’t know this yet. And it’s not that he refuses to work with the other players, per se. But before the events of the last match, he just didn’t really care all that much about them.

“This might sound incredibly sappy, but you _do_ need to form a bond with the other first-stringers. Trust is a valuable weapon in volleyball. Especially when you’re the ace. They need to _know_ that you’ll be there. And right now, I don’t think everyone does.” Kyoutani looks to the left again. He doesn’t have anything to add to the conversation, but Iwaizumi isn’t done yet. “It’s better now than it was before. You’ve attended all training sessions, and most players are learning how to work with you better – but you need to learn about them too. Especially-“ he takes a deep breath, and Kyoutani tips his head back against the wall, already knowing what’s coming. “Yahaba. His trust in you needs to be without fault, if you want to work together properly - like you have to, in order to win. Even more so if you want to become vice-captain.” Now _this_ makes Kyoutani finally open his mouth again.

“I never asked to become-?”

“It’s a _tradition_ for Seijoh’s ace to become captain or vice, I don’t think they’ll stop with you. But really – you need to work with Yahaba. He’s a good player and he’ll be a strong captain. He needs a vice-captain who’s at least as strong as he is, to support him next year.”

“Does he even _know_ that I’m supposedly going to be vice-captain?” Iwaizumi lets out a grunt. “I’m not sure. Oikawa’s talking to him now – so I guess that even if he didn’t, he’ll know within a couple of minutes. But anyway, that’s all I needed to tell you, really. I know you guys don’t get along all that well, but tension between you two can, _and will,_ weaken the team. You need to trust each other.”

“He doesn’t.”

Iwaizumi scoffs, not shocked in the slightest. “And you’ll let that stop you? I thought you were all about ‘giving it your all’? Or was that just talk? Because you won’t be able to do that in matches until you work well together.”

Kyoutani honestly isn’t all that bothered by the order. It’s not that he dislikes the other players of the team, as long as they aren’t in his way. As for Yahaba… Maybe two weeks ago, he’d have argued. But Shigeru’s actions that day had been interesting. Kyoutani knows that his eyes are sharp and he appears fierce and hostile, even to his teammates – but this doesn’t seem to intimidate Yahaba at all. The lack of fear is refreshing. That ridiculously wavy hear and pale skin are hiding a backbone made of steel. It’s kind of impressive, even if he’d never admit it out loud.

“’kay.”

Iwaizumi just nods, content with Kyoutani’s monosyllabic reaction. If he was expecting something more, he doesn’t show it.

“Let’s go then.”

It takes Kyoutani seeing Oikawa talking to a glaring Yahaba, to realize that the task he just signed up for might not be as easy as expected. Yahaba can be as bull-headed as he’s determined, which isn’t a great match for Kyoutani’s pride. But still. _This_ is his chance. He’ll show Iwaizumi that he can surpass him – he’ll make sure they become the strongest setter-ace duo their team has ever seen. Kyoutani quickly turns when Yahaba moves his glare sideways – boring holes into his skull. It feels like a challenge, and it takes a lot of effort to not just glare back. It’s only when Iwaizumi joins the two of them that Yahaba turns away again. He’d thought the setter would agree to the assignment more easily than he let show. He’d cheered for Kyoutani when he was playing, after all, following the little… speech he’d given when he had shouted and slammed Kentarou against the wall. He had thought Yahaba would _rush_ to do whatever his precious senpai wanted from him.

Nevertheless, Kyoutani isn’t stupid. There’s no way Yahaba would ever be replaced. If he wants to become ace, he’ll have to prove his worth somehow. Throughout his years at Minamisan Junior High, his coach had often told him that teamwork comes automatically, and that becoming the ace isn’t something you necessarily _fight_ for. Seems like he’ll have to fight for both after all.

* * *

Monday-morning practice is an awkward affair. Oikawa was kept on as captain for the time being, the title not officially transferring to Yahaba until the end of the school year. Yahaba and Kyoutani are now working together at all times, while simultaneously talking as little as possible. They haven’t discussed the conversations they’d both had with their senpais – tension still radiating from the both of them every time they give each other instructions or get extra training from Iwaizumi and Oikawa.

Watari was the only one that didn’t seem bothered by this, seemingly delighted by the situation. He’d hold up his thumbs when Yahaba praised Kyoutani with a stiff “nice spike”, or slapped Kyoutani on the back when he’d grunt a “thanks” whenever Yahaba gave him a perfectly matched toss.

* * *

The frustration grows gradually. Every day that creeps by pulls the knot in his chest a little tighter. Kyoutani doesn’t understand what has happened in the months that he trained by himself. Before he’d left the team, he and Yahaba had worked together fine. Or, at least, far better than Kyoutani had with the other players. And during the game against Karasuno, that click had returned, stronger than it had ever been in the past. Maybe it was the pressure of wanting to defeat another team? But it’s not like they can hold matches every other day to get that energy back. They’ll have to _‘form a bond’_ without it, somehow.

Kyoutani scoffs at his own thoughts. He didn’t think he’d ever see the day where he’d try _this hard_ to bond with his teammates – even with everything Kiyoshi-san had told him about teamwork and depending on others. No matter how much he wants to denounce the speeches Oikawa and Iwaizumi have given the both of them, they _did_ help. Yahaba and he have now reached an equilibrium of sorts; carefully worded conversations where Yahaba tries to be so polite that it’s creepy, and Kyoutani tries not to snap at him or grunt too much. On the court, they have returned to the way they worked together before he left, and Yahaba had only shouted at him twice last week. Watari called it a win, but Kyoutani is doubtful. He knows that a captain and his vice aren’t supposed to argue all the time, but he dislikes the careful way they have to tiptoe around each other these days. He values honesty too much to like this _play_ that they’re acting in. But apparently, his opinion doesn't really matter if he wants to be the ace. He knows that this kind of interaction is what the coaches and the other players want, no matter how filtered and reigned-in it is, but he wonders when it’ll stop feeling like he’s betraying something inside himself every time he opens his mouth.

The logical solution would be to talk to Yahaba about it, but that may just set off the bomb they’ve been trying to diffuse this past week. And there is also the fact that Kyoutani doesn’t have all that much confidence in his ability to remain calm if he’s faced with Yahaba’s perfect-school-boy attitude again. It’s not like they’ll ever be as mushy as Yahaba and Watari seem to be – sparks and head-on confrontation is just the way they work.

He’d argue that his senpais aren’t the mushy type either. Or, at least, Iwaizumi isn’t. Kyoutani lost count of how many times their ace had hit their captain in some capacity, over the 2 years he’s been attending this school with them. It’s unfair that they’re allowed to be cranky and hit each other, but he’s not allowed to utter one bad word about Yahaba. But then again – Oikawa and Iwaizumi have known each other their whole lives. Their trust in each other is unbreakable, and even Kyoutani has to acknowledge that Iwaizumi’s aggression tends to be more hidden caring than anything else. The two of them are so close that they act like one being whenever they’re on the court.

Maybe things would be easier if Yahaba and he had known each other that long – if they’d been like that. An image flits through his mind; Iwaizumi’s hand soothingly trailing down Oikawa’s neck, whenever he thinks no one is watching. The wish for Yahaba and he to resemble their senpai dies right then and there, a bark of laughter escaping him at the idea. He ignores Kindaichi’s surprised glance as he goes to retrieve the ball he just spiked over the net. Yahaba would rather _explode_ than let that happen, and Kyoutani might be gay, but that doesn’t mean his taste in men is as bad as his social skills.

* * *

It’s on the second Thursday after The Great Senpai Talk that Kyoutani and Yahaba’s newfound friendship gets tested for the first time. Practice had been nearly flawless – the best one since Kyoutani had returned to the team by far. Giving compliments is easier now – a more natural flow in their words instead of the forced nature they used to have. Kyoutani still isn’t used to talking this much with the other players, even less when giving _positive feedback_, but he tries. Kindaichi had even smiled at him when he’d given his kouhai a nod after a particularly good spike, so Kentarou assumes his intention had been clear enough. Kunimi never really reacts to his grunts or nods, but Kunimi’s face is passive on most occasions, so Kyoutani doesn’t worry. He’s noticed that Yahaba’s smiling more at him too. It’s good to know that his efforts don’t go unnoticed, even though it remains hard to keep from flinching when the setter unexpectedly pats his shoulder or tries to make jokes.

It’s _weird_ how easily they’ve slid into their new roles, no matter how positive the outcome. Kyoutani knows they won’t be like this every day. He knows they’ll still have fights. Despite realizing all that – he’s still surprised when he finds himself shouting at Yahaba again. It had started out so ordinarily too.

“Kyoutani, can you wait for a second after clean up?”

Kyoutani’s shoulders tense, his gaze immediately flitting to the clock above the gym doors. He should hurry. He still has to redress before going home and there isn’t that much time left. He doesn’t want a repeat of last month, when his bus got held up because of traffic. He can try and bike faster, but-

“Kyou-?”

“What?” He winces a bit at the curtness of his tone while he hurries to wheel the last volleyball carts into the storage room. ‘Whatever. Maybe it’ll make this go by faster.’

There a second of silence before Yahaba repeats his question. “I just asked if you would-”

“Yes. Yes, what is it? Can’t you just say it now?” The net’s the only thing left to store away, as Yahaba’s just cleared the chairs their managers had used. Kyoutani’s been stupid. He thought he could squeeze in some extra practice, totally forgetting about the fact that he was on clean-up duty. He should’ve gone home right away.

“There’s no need to snap at me.” Yahaba’s tone has gotten colder, juxtaposing the heat that’s flowing to Kentarou’s head as he tries not to let his impatience burst out of him. He digs his nails into his palms, trying to ground himself before turning and asking again. “What is it?”

Yahaba’s lips are still thin, but he seems to forgive Kyoutani’s abruptness, going on after a second of hesitation. “Well… We’re going to lead the team. Together. And I thought… Well, we kinda- we haven’t really tried to decide-, no, that’s not right. I mean that we haven’t-”

Kyoutani doesn’t know what’s more infuriating at this point; the awkwardness that radiates off of Yahaba’s every word, or the long-ass time he’s taking to figure out what he’s going to say. “Can you get to the point? I really don’t have time for this.”

He knows he’s made a mistake the moment Yahaba clicks his mouth shut. Red flows into his cheeks, and Kyoutani can _feel_ their combined irritation building until right beneath the breaking point.

“Then _make_ time!” If it had been any other day, Kyoutani would have been impressed by Yahaba’s ability to talk this clearly through clenched teeth, but alas – it isn’t.

“I want to meet up this evening. To talk about our strategy for next year. I know you don’t have schoolwork; Monoma told me.” Kyoutani wonders for about half a second why Yahaba didn’t just ask _him_ directly, instead of interrogating his classmates. It doesn’t matter, he has to go.

“’Can’t, so-”

Yahaba’s doesn’t wait for him to finish talking, he just goes on with his speech – eyes narrowing further, the longer he speaks.

“I know you don’t want to meet up at my house, but I don’t care. We don’t have to be friends. I’ll make sure we work together whether you want to or not. I won’t let you drag the team down by…”, he makes an impatient gesture with his hand, “being you.”

Kyoutani is breathing fast at this point. His teeth are hurting with the strength he’s using to grind them together. “I _said_ that I can’t tod-“

He can’t even finish his sentence before Yahaba sets off. “You’re _ALWAYS_ like this?! Why do you have to be so difficult about _everything_?! If you want the position, you have to bear the responsibilities. I won’t do it alone, just so you can show up whenever you want, or-”

“I didn’t say I wouldn’t help!”, Kyoutani bellows back. Their shouting echoes through the gym. “I said I don’t have time!”

“Well – then you should decide what’s more important!” Yahaba’s screams are rising in pitch when his anger builds even higher. “If you don’t take this seriously, then you should just _go_. It’s what you do every time you don’t like something. It’s pathetic. We’re a _team_– you don’t just _leave_ whenever something doesn’t go the way you want it to!”

A far, distant part of Kyoutani’s mind is warning him that there’s more to this, that Yahaba’s not just pulling something out of thin air. But his anger doesn’t care about that at all. “WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU EVEN TALKING ABOUT?! I haven’t _left_ since then, have I?! And it’s not like people cared the first time. I wasn’t a first-stringer, I could do whatever the hell I wanted!”

This seems to strike a nerve in Yahaba. No matter how passionate he is about volleyball – Kyoutani wasn’t indispensable. And first-stringer or not; there’s no law that prohibits him from breaking away from the group when he wants to, even if doing so now would be a devastating blow to the team.

“Yes, you _did_.” Yahaba’s voice is calm in cold triumph. “When we lost, we all went to eat together. But you ran away, as usual.”

Kyoutani gapes at him. The argument is so _stupid_ that he has no clue how to react. “I went _home_!? And don’t act like we were friends at that point? Before throwing me against the wall, we hadn’t spoken in _months! _I didn’t _want_ to be there, so I wasn’t. It wasn’t an obligation. And Kunimi left too!” That last line shuts Yahaba up for the first time, eyes flitting to the side as he visibly tries to remember if the whole team was present at the noodle shop.

Kyoutani looks at the clock and curses. “I don’t have time for this shit. I’m out. You can do the rest of your bitching tomorrow.” He storms off, grabbing his backpack and jacket from the clubroom before jogging to his bicycle. If he hurries, he might still make it before Suki freaks out too much. He puts his anger to use when he speeds home, the repetitive movements draining him of his aggression.

It’s only when he’s lying in bed that he considers their argument again. Maybe he should have just told Yahaba why he needed to go home? His lip curls in distaste. It’s not like he’d have gotten a chance to finish his sentence before getting interrupted again. And it’s not like it’s Yahaba’s business anyway. He probably would have laughed, even. ‘Yes’, he tries to convince himself vindictively, ‘that seems like the kind of thing he would have done’.

A beep next to his head makes him reach for his phone. After most of his anger had seeped away, he’d sent a message to the only person he’s willing to ask about ‘team bonding’ without embarrassing himself. Kiyoshi had taken more time to respond than expected.

**Kiyoshi, (22:18): “Nothing a little communication can’t fix.”**

Kyoutani glares at his phone. That doesn’t help him at all.

**Karaage Ken, (22:18): “Tried that. He didn’t listen.”**

It takes only 3 minutes to receive an answer this time. He can almost _hear_ Kiyoshi’s sigh through his text.

**Kiyoshi, (22:21): It sounds like your setter isn’t trusting you to stay with the team. It’s hard to play when your ace runs off to the neighbourhood team instead of to your own practice. Is his distrust valid?**

Kyoutani raises his eyebrow. _Old man speech._ He wants to send an angry “Yes!” back, but that’d be a lie. He lets out an irritated huff before replying.

**Karaage Ken, (22:22): No.**

**Kiyoshi, (22:23): No harm in telling him so, then.**

A little voice inside Kyoutani’s head starts mumbling that Yahaba probably wouldn’t have reacted the way he did if he hadn’t been so convinced that Kyoutani would leave the team behind. Kyoutani screws his eyes shut. He thought he was done with this. Did he really need to spell it out? Would Yahaba have understood? If Kyoutani had told him? Somewhere, he wants to keep clinging to the idea that Yahaba would have laughed, just to stay mad. But if he’s being honest, Yahaba probably isn’t the type of person to laugh at something like that. Still – Kyoutani can’t meet up with him. He needs to be home in time every day, this week. So there’s really no way to-…

Kentarou groans. He wishes he could erase the thought that just popped up in his head, act like he hadn’t figured out the remote possibility of an easy solution. It’s so _obvious_. And yet, at the same time…

He grabs his phone, scowl deepening as he types his message.

**Karaage Ken, (22:36): I thought of smth. Might have a solution.**

**Kiyoshi, (22:37): Good luck.**

Kyoutani flings his cell phone on his pillow before climbing out of bed and shuffling into the hallway. The sounds of the television mean that his parents are still up – the last hurdle that could stop his half-baked plan melting away. It was unlikely that they would protest. It’s been years since he lost contact with Kousuke, and after that, he’d… He squeezes his eyes shut one last time, making up his mind before shouting down the hall: “Dad? T’morrow, can I bring a… a teammate home? After training ‘s finished? ’s for school stuff.”

“You can always invite friends here, kiddo.”

“’s just a teammate, dad!”

* * *

Kyoutani shoves his hands into his pockets – the morning air still chilly enough to be annoying. He’s almost never this early to practice, despite arriving on time every day now. But he wants to get the jump on Yahaba before the rest of the team arrives.

His guess turns out to be nearly perfect, as he can see Yahaba’s silvery hair in the distance as the setter fiddles with the lock of the club room. He quickens his pace, slinging the words at Yahaba’s head the second he’s within hearing distance – not giving himself the option to reconsider.

“Do you have any allergies?”

“Whuh-?” Yahaba jumps a little before turning to Kyoutani. His gaze is a bit sheepish, but he seems to steel himself quickly – straightening his back and looking Kyoutani straight in the eye. “What?” There’s only surprise colouring his voice. Kyoutani wonders if Yahaba thinks he wants to continue their argument. The eyes staring at him appear even lighter than usual when reflecting the morning sky. ‘It makes him look uncanny,’ Kyoutani decides. That’s also when he realizes Yahaba’s still waiting for him to answer.

“I said: do you have any allergies?”

Yahaba frowns, clearly not understanding where Kyoutani is going with this. “No? Not that I know of.”

“Good”, Kyoutani grunts. Yahaba’s still staring at him. “You have to come with me, after practice. Don’t be slow, I have to get home on time.”

“What?”

Kyoutani takes in a deep breath. This idiot is in _prep class_. How can he be that smart and so _dumb_ at the same time? Isn’t it obvious what he means?

“That’s what you wanted? Right?” He turns his head, stubbornly glaring at the wall instead. “To talk about strategy? We can do it at my house instead. I have to be home on time, ‘can’t change that.”

“Oh.” Yahaba blinks a few times before Kyoutani’s words seem to sink in. He doesn’t outright smile, but the corner of his mouth twitches and his eyes gleam. Kyoutani’s eyes turn to the wall again.

“Sure. Sure, that’s good.”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah…”

Kyoutani can feel the top of his ears starting to get hot when Yahaba just keeps staring at him.

“Don’t you have to open the gym?.”

Yahaba turns with a little yelp, moving forward to finally open the door of the club room, before he can head to the gym.

Kyoutani’s phone is burning a hole into his pocket – the texts Kiyoshi sent him on repeat in his head. He glares at Yahaba’s back as the door swings open.  
‘Really, it’s a pain.’

“I’m not going to, you know.”

For a moment, he thinks he was too quiet and he decides to leave it at that, but Yahaba has stopped moving – his back still in the doorway. “Not going to what?” It’s louder than Kyoutani’s grunt had been, but not by much.

He scowls. This feels so incredibly stupid, but so did returning to team practice – and Kiyoshi had been right about that too.

“Leave. Again. I’m not going to.”

Yahaba says nothing, turning his head left to look at Kyoutani over his shoulder. They stand there for all of 3 seconds, but it feels like hours.

“Okay.”

Kyoutani frowns in confusion as Yahaba simply moves aside – giving a little nod towards the door and staring at Kyoutani expectantly. He waits until the ace-to-be brushes his shoulder before moving forward, leading the both of them into the clubroom.

* * *

“sure you don’t ’ave any allergies?”

“Is that your new way of greeting? Or is it only for special people?” Kyoutani doesn’t know what it says that Yahaba doesn’t even blink at him when he repeats his question.

“’s only for shitty people.”

The corner of Yahaba’s mouth twitches again and Kyoutani struggles to regain focus – trying hard not to show pride at the fact that he nearly got him to laugh. Yahaba’s mouth stops its trembling, making Kyoutani’s gaze fly back to brown eyes, narrowed in suspicion. “You’re not planning to kill me, are you?”

It says a lot about the progress they’ve made – being able to tell jokes like this without any malice. A month ago, that sentence would have carried a very different tone (and would’ve probably gathered a very different reaction too).

“‘haven’t decided yet,” he grunts, interrupting when Yahaba opens his mouth again. He bumps the setter’s shoulder as he forces his way from his locker to the door of the club room; “just answer the fucking question”.

“I don’t have any allergies, as far as I know.” Kyoutani keeps his face neutral. He knew this already – but the closer they got to the end of evening practice, the more he wishes he’d never asked. Some random allergy would be the only reason not to go through with their planned ‘meeting’.

“Hurry up, will you.” Yahaba frowns but doesn’t comment as he joins him in the doorway. It’s Watari’s turn to close up, so they can both leave without any delay.

“Why did you ask?” Kyoutani frowns at the street, knowing what Yahaba’s prodding at, but unwilling to talk more than he has to.

“About the allergies, I mean?”

Well. It’s not like Yahaba’s likely to shut up about this. Maybe telling him beforehand would be best, in the end. Maybe it’ll turn out that his worrying wasn’t as necessary as he believed? It’s not like he’ll be able to hide him when they arrive, and his home is only a couple more minutes away.

He clicks his tongue before finally mumbling: “I have dogs”. The expected reference to his nickname stays out, and Kyoutani’s shoulders relax a fraction. He knows having pets isn’t that weird, but he’s not looking forward to hearing ‘Kyouken’ even more, and Yahaba is Oikawa’s Kouhai after all.

A glance to his left reveals a calculating expression on Yahaba’s face. “How many?”

“Two.”

“I can see it.” Kyoutani scowls, ready to bite out that he _isn’t_ a fucking dog, no matter how many times others joke about it. “You seem like the kind of guy that works better with animals than with people.” Kyoutani’s anger floods away, leaving him eerily empty. That wasn’t what he expected. Then again – Yahaba has the tendency to ignore Kyoutani’s expectations and crash right through them.

“… right.”

Yahaba grins at the clear awkwardness in Kyoutani’s voice. “Well, _that_ and the fact that you-”

“I’m still considering the murder thing, you know.” Yahaba’s grin widens, but he lets their conversation rest.

They’ve taken the bus to get to Kyoutani’s home, since Yahaba’d come to school on foot. Kentarou had expected there to be a lot of strained silences, but his apprehension had been proven unnecessary. They’ve been quiet for most of the trip – but it’d felt relaxed instead of awkward.

“That’s it. The yellow one.” Kyoutani walks towards the door he nodded at, strolling between the flowery bushes that line the path to the front door. He’s already unlocked the door when he realizes he hasn’t warned Yahaba of the most important aspect of one of his pets. “You have to do exactly as I say, when I introduce you to my dogs.”

“O-kay…?” Yahaba looks surprised, if a little indignant. “I _do_ know how to-”

“We adopted our most recent dog only three weeks ago. He’s been through a lot before the shelter, and I don’t know how he’ll react to you.” Yahaba nods, his expression serious. “Okay.”

Kyoutani finally pushes open the door, immediately putting his bag and shoes away in practised fashion. Yahaba trails behind, putting away his shoes and calling out a clear “tadaima” to follow up on Kyoutani’s softer one.

“There’s no one home except for the dogs, idiot. I told you.”

“Well, who did _you_ call out to, then?” The last word hasn’t left Yahaba’s lips before they can hear the answer running towards them. Excited barks echo through the hallway as a German Shepherd turns the corner, almost slipping in its haste to get to its owner.

Kyoutani simply bends down, opening his arms in practised ease – not moving an inch as the dog collides with his shoulder, its tail going haywire. Kyoutani scratches his dog behind the ears, smiling softly before moving to sit on the foot of the stairs and whistling twice. His smile fades as he catches the wide-eyed look Yahaba’s giving him. Kyoutani coughs, motioning to the excited dog nuzzling his chest.

“Aiko, Yahaba. Yahaba, Aiko.”

“You can pet her, if you want,” he continues, noticing the hesitation in Yahaba’s face. “But I thought you said-” “No, _that’s_ our other dog. We’ve had Aiko for 4 years now, you don’t have to worry about her.”

Yahaba visibly relaxes, his shoulder slumping as he moves forward with a smile – letting Aiko smell his hand before scratching behind her ears and stroking her back. “What a pretty girl you are~” Aiko barks in agreement, moving from between Kentarou’s legs to investigate this interesting stranger. Kyoutani’s surprised she’s taken to him this quickly.

Yahaba laughs as she sniffs his pants insistently. “She might be smelling Sakura.”

“Sakura?”

“My dog.”

Kyoutani is saved from replying by the sound of sharp little nails clicking on the wooden floor. He exhales slowly. It had taken a bit longer than usual, but not worryingly so. He motions for Yahaba to stay near the door while sliding more to the side of the staircase. A Pomeranian slowly appears behind the corner, pausing a couple of metres away and staring at Yahaba. His ears are pinned back and his body is close to the ground, but he isn’t trembling – like when he met Kyoutani those few weeks ago.

“Suki”, Kyoutani mutters to Yahaba, barely sparing him a glance. The little dog he’s referring to is standing stock still – keeping a safe distance. He pauses what he’s going to say next when he catches Yahaba’s wide-eyed stare, the setter’s body just as still as the Pomeranian’s.

Kyoutani can feel annoyance crawling back into his chest at Yahaba’s behaviour. ‘Alright, maybe such a cutesy pet may not have been what he expected, but still, it’s just a dog.’

“What did you expect, hah? A _dragon_?”

“What?” The reply comes out so soft that it could just as easily have been a puff of air escaping Yahaba’s still slightly opened mouth.

“Suki!”, Kyoutani repeats impatiently, pointing at the dog. “He’s the adopted dog – I told you about it, like, 20 seconds ago, more or less. What are you gaping for? Do you have something against small dogs, because-?”

Yahaba finally closes his mouth, looking down at Aiko again to continue stroking her head. His ears are tinted pink. ‘Serves him right’, Kyoutani thinks pettily. ‘Yahaba may be shallow, but caring that much about dog races seems too petty for even him.’

Turning his back to Yahaba reveals that Suki still hasn’t moved, but he hasn’t run back to the safety of his basket either. “Maybe we should keep talking,” Kyoutani comments softly. “He’s used to me talking to them when he comes to the door.” He can feel the top of his ears start to burn and resolutely _doesn’t_ look at Yahaba, who starts to mutter sweet words to Aiko again. Kyoutani repeats his whistle, tapping the side of his knee while waiting for the small dog to move.

“What happened to its leg?”

“He lost his owner and his hind-leg in some kind of car accident. I don’t know where the problem lies, exactly, but he gets really anxious when no one’s home around 6 – so we make sure someone’s always there. Normally that would be my sister, but she’s in Toyama for some kind of internship.” He halts his story when Suki runs forward, pressing himself to Kyoutani’s leg, his body almost completely out of sight from Yahaba.

“Good! You’re so good. So great, Suki, I’m proud. Yes, you’re very good.” Kyoutani smiles as he scratches behind Suki’s ears. He keeps his tone happy and light as to not alarm his dog when he turns back to Yahaba, who’s staring at him with wide eyes again. He falters for just a second, but then goes on: “Can you stay here for a moment? I’ll go to my room with Suki, we do this every day. You can come in about 2 minutes – I’ll leave the door open, it’s the second one on the left.” Yahaba nods, his face returning to a more neutral expression.

*

When the setter follows Aiko into the room, Kyoutani’s already seated on his window-sill, Suki in his lap. It seems like Suki’s completely calmed down – body relaxed under the pats of his owner.

“You can sit wherever.” Yahaba’s busies himself by studying the rows of pictures that fill the wall, remaining silent when he finally sits down next to Aiko, who’s happily claimed the end of Kentarou’s bed for herself.

Kyoutani has to focus to keep from fidgeting, trying not to let the awkward air overwhelm him. It’s been _years_ since he last brought someone over to his house. He doesn’t know what to do next. It’s not like he can propose to play hide and seek, like he used to when he was 9. But the longer the silence stretches, the more awkward it feels.

“Euh-”

“Your house smells really nice.”

“What…?” Yahaba isn’t looking at him. He’s resumed petting Aiko, his eyes still gliding over the pictures that are spread across the room with obvious interest. Kyoutani’s agitated. He shouldn’t have gone through with this. “What did you _expect_, then? That it would smell?” Yahaba’s face goes through several emotions in quick succession, before settling on confusion.

“… No? It’s was just a compliment – those exist, you know. Well – maybe you don’t.”

Kyoutani’s shoulders relax again. He never thought Yahaba’s haughtiness would make him de-stress someday, but alas, here they are. It feels more natural than the awkward silences, that’s for sure.

“Aren’t you supposed to _do things_ now? I thought you wanted to strategize or something?”

“Well… I guess, for now, talking is fine.” Kyoutani’s eyes narrow as he stares Yahaba down. He isn’t fooled by the absentminded look on the setter’s face – Yahaba’s little finger betrays him by tapping his leg in the same way he would before matches. “And how the fuck would _that_ help?”

“Well… I’m just doing what Oikawa-san said I should. He was quite adamant about the fact that we should get closer.” His jaw clenches as he mutters those last words, looking away like he doesn’t want to see Kyoutani’s reaction. “He said ‘forming a unit’ should be the core of every strategy.”

“I didn’t know I signed up for team building exercises.”

Yahaba laughs at the distaste in Kyoutani’s voice, startling Suki, who nuzzles into Kyoutani’s hand to receive more pats.

“I thought you’d get mad.”

There’s a teasing undertone in his words, but Kyoutani can still hear the relief that’s hidden underneath. He grunts.

“I never get mad.”

Yahaba laughs again, louder this time. It’s been almost a year since they last talked like this – like friends. Maybe. Almost.

It feels… 

“So what do you want to do then?”

“Well… I think, maybe- Or… I don’t really know, actually.” Yahaba’s voice raises in sync with Kyoutani’s eyebrows. “What did that loudmouth tell you, then?”

Yahaba glares at Kyoutani, but doesn’t berate him for disrespecting Oikawa. It’s kind of refreshing. “That we needed to become… friends, and stuff,” he finishes lamely.

“Friends. So… Hanging out and shit? Together?”

Yahaba cocks his head to the side as he thinks. “Yeah, I suppose. I don’t think it really matters what we do. We could… watch movies or something? Or go out, somewhere? Talk? I don’t know.

Kyoutani has the weird to urge to giggle hysterically, his stomach roiling. He doesn’t want to do this. It’s too weird, almost surreal. Like watching yourself in a play, or some sort of cult movie. He wonders if the screen would freeze if he stood up and did a backflip – if he simply refused to follow script.

“What? And do you want to make friendship bracelets too?”

It’s interesting to see the way Yahaba turns red – very gradually, like someone’s pouring hot water into his head. “Don’t look at me like that! I know that Iwaizumi-senpai has talked to you too! This isn’t supposed to be all… I don’t know – coming from my side?! What do you suggest, then?!”

“Iwaizumi just told me that we needed to trust each other – shit like that. For the team.”

“And?”

“And what?”

“And do you? Trust me?”

The room stills. Kyoutani’s head is clear, his thoughts quiet. All there is, is Yahaba – staring at him with the same look he had during that match. Like he’s challenging him to do something. To answer his call by taking a step forward.

Does he trust Yahaba? Truly? The answer is… complicated.

“In volleyball? Or outside of it?”

Yahaba’s expression doesn’t change. “Is there a difference?”

This sends Kyoutani’s mind reeling. _OF COURSE_ there’s a difference. Isn’t there? Does it matter?

Should it matter?

“I… don’t know.”

“Don’t know if there’s a difference, or if you trust me?”

Kyoutani grinds his teeth. Does he want an honest answer, or does he want to hear what suits him best? Probably honesty – Yahaba may be shallow, but never about volleyball. ‘Nor his friends’, his mind ads reluctantly.

“Both.” The flash of disappointment that passes Yahaba’s features is a short one, but it still bugs Kyoutani. It’s almost more annoying than his haughtiness. It doesn’t suit him.

“But… I guess, more than others. If that counts?”

“I think… Okay. Yes, it counts.” Yahaba nods, and Kyoutani nods back, hoping they’ll never have to talk about anything this mortifyingly sappy again. But Yahaba doesn’t seem to care about Kyoutani’s wishes.

“I do. Trust you. I didn’t really before, but I do now.” He nods again, mostly to himself, before following it up with a cheery: “Let’s never talk about this again, then. It sucks. Do you have something to drink here?” It almost startles a laugh out of Kyoutani, but he regains his composure just in time.

*

In the end, they didn’t talk much about “strategy” at all. It was mostly Yahaba raving about Sakura and comparing her behaviour and funny stories to those of Aiko and Suki. Kyoutani wonders if this truly was what their captain and ace had in mind, when they were planning out the speeches they gave to the both of them. If they really had wanted them to start some sort of ‘friendship crash course’ – a quick way to rebuild a bond that had been broken before it ever really existed in the first place. He gets why they want Yahaba and him to get along, from a practical standpoint – but he doubts that it’s worth the promise _(threat)_ of Yahaba’s; ‘we’ll meet again after training tomorrow’.

Kyoutani jumps back as the front door suddenly opens and almost hits him in his face. “Ah, Ken.” His father’s sounds tired, but pleased. “Why are you guarding the door? ‘Miss me that much?” Kyoutani blinks, pondering how long he’s been standing there since Yahaba left.

‘This is proof,’ he thinks bitterly, ‘proof that trying to become friends with Yahaba is going to break my brain’.

His dad ignores him, putting away his shoes and coat before heading to the kitchen.

“Dad? Is it okay if that teammate comes over again, tomorrow?”

Kyoutani watches as his dad turns his head to look at Kyoutani over his shoulder, his expression shrewd. “Is this the not-a-friend teammate?”

Kyoutani glowers at him – the other man’s grin only growing more and more the redder his son’s face becomes.

“Can I invite my friend again? Tomorrow?”

“Any day, son, any day.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are several notes that I want to make about this chapter:  
1\. The way Kyoutani saves his own name in his cell phone was based on his favorite food 'Kara Age Kun'  
2\. I used European time stamps for the text messages bc that made most sense to me (but idk, maybe it’s portrayed like that everywhere – I’ll just assume that you all understand the time codes :p)  
3\. In every chapter, there will be a short start from Yahaba’s perspective, followed by the main part of the chapter, which will follow Kyoutani. Most of Yahaba’s scene’s will take part in the past (the specific amount of weeks that are pointed out at the start of each chapter show you how many more weeks there are until the day on which the 4th and 5th chapter take place.)
> 
> My first fic has brought me many great things; one of which is a reader who reached out and whom I can now call one of my closest friends (Hi Possumel! :D) – another is the giant energy boost that comes from the comments which people leave on my chapters.  
I’m only a baby writer at this point, even though I’m planning on creating each and every fic that I’ve placed on my to-write-list. I cherish every kudo that I receive – but comments that tell me what you liked/thought was funny/could be better will help me to grow into a better writer in the future. I could really use your advice since I’ve already started on my third work ;)
> 
> Thank you for reading and I hope you all have a wonderful day!
> 
> Edit: Hey folks! Just a small note I wanted to make; if you're someone who dislikes writing a comment on AO3 and who'd rather tweet about my fic, I really would love to read those threads - just @ me and I'll read them for sure! I've read one long thread about my Ushiten fic and One shorter one about my Kyouhaba work, which I almost didn't see bc I wasn't added. Reading thoughts on my work gives me a lot of energy and generally gets me super excited and happy ^^ - I don't mind if it's criticism either (as long as people remain polite) - so please, if you have any thoughts about my works; I don't mind where you post your comments, as long as I have a way to find out where they are ;) - thank you! 💚
> 
> * * *
> 
> Talk Tendou to me! – You can do so in the comments or on [Tumblr](http://riseoftheplanetofthesnapes.tumblr.com/) & [Twitter](https://twitter.com/AsimiShadowborn)  
(Other subjects are welcome too, obviously :p)


	2. Would you prove that you love me?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Yahaba drops his face back into the pillow, rolling from cheek to cheek in an effort to fade into the fabric and out of existence._
> 
> _“I don’t care.” _
> 
> _Only a true friend would be able to correctly interpret the muffled mumbling that originates from somewhere within the cushion, but Watari’s somewhat of an expert at dealing with Yahaba’s tantrums._
> 
> _“I’ve noticed.”_
> 
> _If the cushion grumbles out a sullen reply, it gets ignored._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is one of my favorite chapters of this fic! ^^ It also includes one of my most beloved moments in film history (even though it’s quite small). AnneLilian noticed it during her reading – please let me know in the comments if you found that moment too ;)
> 
> Random important knowledge that I forgot to share with the world: for the sake of the creation of my first chapter, my beta-friend had to saunter through the living room while I applauded! #goodtimes

_ (6 weeks ago) _

“aaaaaaaaaaaah-grmblbgrmn!”

“Please _stop_ eating my pillow. It’s kinda distressing.”

Watari keeps on scribbling down notes as Yahaba lifts his head to glare at him.

“Thanks for the support, fucker.”

“I wasn’t aware that you needed any.”

“I literally _just_ told you what-“

“’still don’t see the problem, though. It’s been a single day, just let it rest.”

“How would _you_ have reacted if he suddenly said “’suki” to you?”

“I wouldn’t care at all, actually.”

Yahaba drops his face back into the pillow, rolling from cheek to cheek in an effort to fade into the fabric and out of existence.

“I _don’t _care.” Only a true friend would be able to correctly interpret the muffled mumbling that originates from somewhere within the cushion, but Watari’s somewhat of an expert at dealing with Yahaba’s tantrums.

“I’ve noticed.”

If the cushion grumbles out a sullen reply, it gets ignored.

* 

Their conversation picks back up on Monday, when Yahaba drops down next to Watari – who’s just opened his lunchbox.

“Maybe ‘not caring’ wasn’t the most honest description. Hey- Don’t laugh?!”

“Sorry…” Watari’s laughter fades at Yahaba’s expression. His hesitation lasts for only a second. Yahaba’s always preferred a more direct approach. “Are you-? I mean – you said you’d gotten over it, didn’t you?”

“Yeah, well. It’s been a year, so I thought I had, but…”

“After only meeting up twice, huh?”

“_Shut up._”

“Come _on_, Shigeru? You’ve got to admit that it’s kinda funny – somewhere far, very deep down.”

“You have shit humour.”

Yahaba picks at his food listlessly, trying to block out Shinji’s curious concern.

“What are you going to do, then?”

“Hmm? Nothing. It’ll go away, eventually. ‘doesn’t really matter.”

“You could always- No, listen; you could always try it out?” Watari’s speech picks up the pace when Yahaba tries to interrupt him. “Shush! You’ve only just started talking again! Just wait it out a little? You don’t have to do anything – the worst that could happen is that you end up being close friends.”

“Yeah, right.”

“C’mon dude, quit your bitching. He likes you, so just go with it? See where it goes?”

“He _doesn’t-_? What?! Why would you even say that, what the _fuck,_ Shinji?”

“Well, he must think you’re ‘okay’, at the very least. I don’t think that him liking you would be out of the question since he didn’t bite your head off when you were shouting at him, last match.” Watari must sense that he’s touched on a good point, because he goes on further by saying: “So far, you’re the only one other than Iwaizumi who’s been able to effectively calm him down and get him to focus whenever he loses control and acts like an idiot again. You actually got his head back into the game – that has to count for _something?_”

Yahaba’s still frowning. “Nah… He doesn’t act like it at all. And anyway – we’re not going to get along if I try to be more like… If I keep following Oikawa’s example.”

Watari has to hold himself back from facepalming, his expression blank as he deadpans: “Yes, because Kyou’s known for sharing his emotions that easily.”

“And you’re not Oikawa, even if you two seem alike, sometimes. But even if you _were_ more like him, I don’t think he’d hate you for it. He probably only dislikes Oikawa because he’s wary of him. He jumps back every time he gets close – you’ve never noticed? Constantly being called ‘Mad Dog-chan’ might not have helped either. ‘kinda hard to trust someone who’s constantly talking about ‘sharpening your fangs’. It’s all nerves and irritation, not true aversion.”

He nods sagely, only to blink at Yahaba’s gaping face.

“Where do you even pull all that shit from? Did you read his diary or something?”

Watari grins. “I overheard Iwaizumi talking to him about it, right before Kyouken dropped out of practice. I don’t know if it’s the reason he left, though? But I don’t think he was comfortable with the way Oikawa tends to look _straight through_ people – kinda hard to act like a delinquent when people aren’t afraid of you in the slightest. Without his aggressive tough-guy act, he doesn’t really have anything.”

“That’s…”, Yahaba shakes his head. “Like Oikawa would’ve been scared from a first-year.”

“I don’t really think him being a first-year had anything to do with it. But I guess his exposure to Iwaizumi made him immune to it, or something.” Watari laughs at his own joke, fishing through his rice for lost pieces of chicken. “Speaking of exposure to Iwaizumi-senpai – I think you might have to look for different ways to discern signs of Kyoutani’s affection, if you’re serious about this. They’re way too alike – I wouldn’t be surprised if he started calling you Shittygeru, just to show his-” he trails off at Yahaba’s raised hand.

Shigeru’s heart is beating a mile a minute. He was 99% sure he’d heard a voice – people approaching just a couple of metres away, around the corner of the wall they were currently leaning against. Whoever it was left quickly, the sound of footsteps fading away as Yahaba’s shoulders start to relax again. He nods to Watari, signalling him to continue.

“So anyway – you can count on my support for sure. Anything to keep you from shouting your complains into my pillow again.” His grin turns devilish at Yahaba’s poisonous look. “One last question though-”

_‘How can people still believe this guy is anything but a little shit?’_

“Does all this mean that you’re trying to turn Kyouken into a ‘_good boy_’?”

*

That particular Monday afternoon, Watari thanks the Gods that Seijoh doesn’t have a spare libero to replace him with, because it’s the only thing that saves him from getting murdered by his best friend.

* * *

The downside to Watari’s overall cheerful exterior is that he’s a _lot_ harder to piss off than Yahaba. Kyoutani isn’t sure how much Yahaba has told the libero about their _‘budding friendship’, _but he has to have told him_ something, _because the other boy miraculously appears at the entrance of Kyoutani’s classroom when people get up to leave for lunch on Monday.

They’re only one classroom apart – Watari in class 6 while Kyoutani is in 5, and despite their proximity, he’s never felt the inclination to go sit with him for lunch. Not that Watari hadn’t tried, but it’s hard to have lunch when the two people you’re eating with won’t stop glowering at each other.

Kyoutani hesitates, his lunchbox still closed on his desk. He wonders if Watari will come in if he tries to ignore him – his question quickly answered when Watari starts waving enthusiastically in his direction. Kyoutani quickly stalks to the door, before Watari starts attracting the attention of his classmates. The libero’s bright grin does nothing to quench his unease as he tries to look behind Watari’s back, wondering at what point Yahaba will start his bitching about the idea of inviting Kyoutani for lunch again.

“You’re forgetting your food!”

“What is it?”

Watari’s grin doesn’t falter, his eyes determined. “We can go eat together, right? Let’s go.” Kyoutani isn’t swayed that easily, but it seems Watari was expecting this. “It’d be nice if you came too. Is there a reason not to?”

Kyoutani narrows his eyes at him. It’s not like it’d be that horrible, maybe…? Since Yahaba and he were.. fine, almost, last Friday and Saturday. But still.

“You eat with Yahaba.”

“yeeeesss…?” Watari’s grin grows broader, even if his tone holds a clear challenge.

“Don’t think he’ll like it if-”

Watari’s grin is so wide that Kyoutani gets confused about how it still fits on his face. “Actually, he’s the one who told me to bring you. So _let’s go?!_”

*

Kyoutani lets Watari fill the silence with his chatter as they walk towards the libero’s usual lunch spot. Yahaba isn’t there when they arrive. As if sensing whom Kyoutani’s thoughts have shifted towards, Watari suddenly blurts out: “You know… Shigeru came to talk to me, yesterday.”

Kyoutani looks at him blankly. “You’re best friends.”

“Don’t I know it”, Watari mumbles. “Anyway, he told me about… That you guys started talking again. Like, without yelling.”

Kyoutani grunts. “I’m not much for talking.”

Watari snorts in response. “Yeah, that’s for sure. I won’t bother you about it – I think it’s great, actually. You guys are… honestly more alike than you think.” It’s Kyoutani’s time to snort now, even as his mind unhelpfully floods him with memories of Yahaba determination and his ravings about his dog, two days ago. It doesn’t matter. Watari has no point in saying stuff like that, he probably just wants less drama during practice.

Watari has dropped his smile, looking at Kyoutani calculatingly. “I just wanted to say that he means it, you know. He means well. I know he’s a bit of a show-off, but if he says he wants to work with you, it’s because he supports the idea, not just because people tell him to. Even if it’s Oikawa.”

Kyoutani says nothing. They’re silent for a moment, settling down and getting out their bentos before Watari concludes: “He’s annoying as fuck when he takes on challenges he doesn’t think he’ll succeed in. He gets scared when he thinks he might disappoint people. It’s idiotic, really. _Don’t tell him I told you that, by the way._ But he’s not scared of this. Not of you. So I guess it’ll work out, as long as you let it.” He claps his hands, startling Kyoutani out of the trance-like state he’d found himself in. “Enough of that shit, can you give me your phone?”

“What?”

“Forgot mine in class, and Yahaba still isn’t here, so I should tell him, ya dig?” He plucks Kentarou’s phone from between his slack fingers, sliding past the lock screen before clicking to his contacts.

“What are you doing?”

“Saving his number, so you can text him to come here. Just tell him that we’re at ‘the tree’, he’ll know what it means.”

“You’re holding my phone, do it yourself.”

“Ah, but that would be rude, wouldn’t it?” Watari’s grin creeps back onto his face as he tosses Kyoutani’s cell phone into his lap. “I saved mine too, that’ll be easier.” Kyoutani doesn’t know how or why that would make life easier, but he doesn’t care enough to make a big deal out of it.

**Karaage Ken, (12:04): “Wre under the tree.” **

**Karaage Ken, (12:04): “Watari says hurry up.”**

**Yahaba Shigeru, (12:04): “Fcking fuckr left without sayin while i was waiting on his ass!”**

**Yahaba Shigeru, (12:06): “Omw.”**

**Yahaba Shigeru, (12:07): “Kick m 4 me.”**

Kyoutani delivers the messages (and the kick) – unresponsive to Watari’s insulted gasp.

“This friendship of yours‘d better be worth all this.”

* * *

Their new lunch arrangement quickly turns into a daily routine. It’s scary how easily Kyoutani melds into this new routine, but that’s still not as frightening as the new text conversations that keep distracting him from his homework. Kyoutani quietly curses Watari, who turned out to be far more manipulative than he’d expected him to be. It had only taken two days of Kyoutani’s cell phone burning a hole into his pocket, combined with the libero’s not so subtle hints to text Yahaba again. The change _should_ be a positive thing – but the more they talk, the less Kentarou is certain about where they stand. It’s going too well, too easy. It isn’t supposed to go like this, with all the fights they’ve had in the past. It should have taken… longer… or something?

It keeps him up at night; only managing to fall asleep easily when they’ve had rough training that evening. Luckily enough for him, training becomes harder and harder each day. He doesn’t know how his coach got _this many_ practice matches, _this late_ into the season, but they have at least one, every two days. Everyone ignores how Irihata must have studied some of Shiratorizawa’s training tactics, because they end up playing against college students and the neighbourhood team more often than they do high school students. The fact that the third-years don’t take part in these matches means that Kyoutani stands on the field at all times, using all of his strength until the last whistle sounds.

But even the new practice regimen isn’t enough to drain him completely tonight, a weird adrenaline-like feeling still flowing through his veins as he tries to fall asleep. He resents the fact that _knowing_ that you should fall asleep never helps at all. He can hear Yahaba’s complaints about his tiredness echoing in his head already. Sadly enough, the fact that they’re getting along better means that Yahaba’s holding back even less; apparently feeling the need to share every little thought that pops up into his head.

There are positive sides too, though – the hostility that used to surround their every conversation has disappeared, even if things still feel a little awkward sometimes. Yahaba even greets him when he arrives for practice; putting up his hand or smiling when he hears him curse. It’s weird, to say the least – creeped the shit out of Kentarou the first time he did it. He hopes the others won’t get as accustomed to reacting to his voice every time he says something, knowing somewhere deep down that there’s no threat of this happening. It’s just Yahaba trying to reverse the damage which their bond still holds.

Kyoutani blindly reaches for his phone to check the time. It’s 1:06 AM. He groans, locking the screen before moving to put it away, when it suddenly vibrates in his hand and he drops it onto his collarbone in shock. He stays frozen for a second, sending a quick ‘thank you’ to whatever deity who had spared him from dropping his phone on his face, before squinting at his screen to check his messages.

**Yahaba Shigeru, (01:06): “R u still up?”**

**Karaage Ken, (01:07): “No.”**

Kyoutani’s heartbeat starts to slow down again, sudden nausea distracting him from his earlier shock. It’s more than weird to receive a message right when you’re thinking of someone. He grimaces, annoyed at his own train of thought. It sounds… wrong when he’d put it like that. It’s probably just that he still isn’t used to them being friends… Yes, that must be it.

**Yahaba Shigeru, (01:07): “Liiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiies”**

**Yahaba Shigeru, (01:07): “Liiiiiiiiiiiiiiies, I say”**

**Karaage Ken, (01:08): “Wtf? R u drunk or something?”**

**Yahaba Shigeru, (01:09): “No, just tired”**

**Karaage Ken, (01:10): “Then FCKING SLEEP.”**

Kyoutani huffs at the screen, debating what he’d send next. No matter how well they are starting to work together on the court, it’s the stupid little conversations like this that make him feel like they’re getting closer than ever. It’s pitiful. Who the fuck would get excited over stupid shit like that?

**Yahaba Shigeru, (01:10): “SLEEP YOURSELF!”**

**Yahaba Shigeru, (01:11): “Or wait, maybe.”**

**Yahaba Shigeru, (01:11): “I’d be even more bored if that wre the case”**

**Karaage Ken, (01:13): “Ur such a nice person – no wonder we didn’t talk.**  
** Isn’t that a good thing whn you want to sleep?”**

**Yahaba Shigeru, (01:14): “M glad u finally acknowledge my awesomeness”**

**Karaage Ken, (01:15): “Sarcasm is a foreign language to you, isn't it?”**

The response takes a little longer this time, 4 minutes passing before he reads:

**Yahaba Shigeru, (01:19): “Did… Did u just quote the Lion King?”**

Kyoutani gapes at his screen until it turns black, then bites his tongue in an effort to keep in the hysterical laughter that’s trying to escape his lungs.

Really, _HOW_ did he think Yahaba was smart (for an asshole), before all of this?

**Karaage Ken, (01:21): “It’s 1:20?! Aren’t you supposed to be asleep?”**

**Yahaba Shigeru, (01:21): “¯\\_( ツ )_/¯”**

**Yahaba Shigeru, (01:22): “I’m supposed to be a lot of things, but I live to disappoint”**

Kyoutani can’t stop his grin this time around – letting it glide over his face in the darkness of his bedroom, only luminated by his phone screen. It’s far easier to talk to Yahaba via text. Which is a little weird, since his responses are the same ones he’d want to give in person – the sharpness of his tone now hidden under the kanji on their screens. Or maybe it’s just Yahaba learning to read him better. Anyway-

**Karaage Ken, (01:23): “Sleep!!”**

**Yahaba Shigeru, (01:23): “You can’t make me”**

**Karaage Ken, (01:23): “I’ll rat you out to Oikawa”**

Kyoutani can almost _hear_ Yahaba’s insulted gasp through his phone, his grin now so broad that it’s hurting his cheeks.

**Yahaba Shigeru, (01:23): “The fck?!”**

**Yahaba Shigeru, (01:24): “You never listen to him?!”**

**Karaage Ken, (01:24): “doesn’t matter”**

**Karaage Ken, (01:24): “You do”**

**Yahaba Shigeru, (01:25): “Traitor”**

**Karaage Ken, (01:25): “Night”**

**Yahaba Shigeru, (01:27): “Gnight”**

* * *

It takes until next Thursday before the boundaries of their friendship are tested. Well… Kyoutani’s boundaries, that is. On a fucking school bus, no less.

Kyoutani’s in the second to last row, Yahaba to his left. They’d been seated next to each other because of Oikawa’s insistent whining some weeks ago, and it’d stayed like that ever since. It’s funny how quickly they fall into their roles, continuing their ‘task’ even without their senpais breathing down their neck. It doesn’t really bother them anymore either, even though texting still feels more comfortable than the various bus trips they’ve had to endure so far.

Overall, it’s okay – sometimes an almost pleasant affair, even though it feels wrong to be in an environment so void of Iwaizumi’s cursing at Oikawa and the other third-years’ sniggering. But these last couple of days, Kyoutani’s been wondering if everyone thinks things are good as they are now. Meaning he’s wondering if _Yahaba_ thinks it’s okay. Because for some stupid reason, the moron can’t. stop. _Fidgeting_. At first he thought it was only bus-related; the setter fiddling with the zip of his jacket whenever they’re seated next to each other – zipping it up… down… up… down… up-

Truly, someone should award Kentarou for his patience. He’d even tried out different approaches; outright telling him to quit, trying to ask nicely, bumping his arm, etc. He’d outright _swiped_ at his hand the last time it happened; grabbing it and forcing it to still against Yahaba’s sternum – zipper still clenched between the setter’s fingers. That seemed to have gotten the message through at last, and Yahaba’s hands had remained still during the rest of the trip.

But recently it’s gotten even _worse_. The idiot has started to fidget during the smallest of pauses in practice; pulling and plucking at the hem of his shirt, since there’s no zipper on their uniform to abuse. The only positive aspect to this change being that it doesn’t make any noise, but it still _irks_ Kyoutani. It annoys him even more that Yahaba jumps almost every time when he tells him to stop, like he’d forgotten Kyoutani was there, somehow. How the _fuck_ can he forget about that? After the stupid speech he’d given at Kyoutani’s house, whining about friendship and yadda-yadda-yadda? Does he _want_ to forget? If Yahaba had been anyone else, that would’ve been Kentarou’s conclusion, but Yahaba’s too stubborn to run away from a challenge like that, too prideful, too… just too.

Kyoutani’s still contemplating this on the bus – staring out of the window on the other side of the aisle, surrounded by the snores of his teammates. There are still 40 minutes before they’ll reach school again, having just gone and played a college team that was further away than the others they’d faced recently. It takes him a couple of seconds to realize that something’s missing. It’s… too quiet?

A quick turn of his head reveals Yahaba, his face slack as it rolls awkwardly against the headrest of his seat. It’s unsurprising that he fell asleep. This match had been especially draining – resulting in Kyoutani being one of the only people who’s awake at the moment, except for their coaches and Kunimi, who is playing a game on his phone some seats before them. He considers Yahaba’s sleeping face for a second, debating if he’s supposed to push the setter a little to the side, letting his head rest against the window instead – so it won’t feel like he’s broken his neck when he wakes up in an hour. He can feel his ears redden, embarrassed by the idea of Yahaba waking and laughing up at him with slowly blinking eyes, still half asleep as he tries to help the moron. Kyoutani huffs, turning away again. He’s no one’s babysitter. The idiot shouldn’t have fallen asleep like that, it’s his own fault – he should bear the consequences.

It takes about 36 seconds for Kentarou to regret his decision. The next time they hit a speed bump, the bus rocks a little, causing a warm weight to fall against Kyoutani’s neck. He stiffens, his entire body frigid as he slowly turns his head – only to be confronted by Yahaba’s silvery brown hair, tickling his nose. He doesn’t know what to do at _all_. Should he just… Push him away? He supposes he could always just shake the setter awake, but… Yahaba looks exhausted, faint bags under his eyes showing the sleeplessness he’d been whining about for days. It’d be rude to wake him. But he can’t, just… let him lay there, can he? That’d be… That’s…

He doesn’t _know_. What do people do when something like this happens? Would it strain their newfound friendship if he pushes him away? And even if that wouldn’t happen, there’s still the possibility of Yahaba waking as Kyoutani is busy pushing the other boy’s head against his own seat, and laughing at him for his cluelessness about social interactions. He’s not quite sure if he could hold himself back from hitting Yahaba if that were to happen, and that’d strain their friendship for _sure._ Or they’d hit a new speedbump, and this’d all just happen again.

In the end, he decides to just let him lie there, rolling his shoulders a little so Yahaba’s head lays more in the crook of his neck, instead of almost against his cheek. He has to straighten his back a bit for this to work out, cursing the fact that Yahaba’s still taller. Three centimetres _shouldn’t_ make this big of a difference, in his opinion. He stiffens once again as Yahaba huffs, way too close to his ear to be comfortable, the soft exhale turning to quiet snores as the bus takes a right turn. Kentarou’s ears feel like they’ll fall off; too hot to be healthy at this point. At least no one’s noticed. No one’s awake _to_ notice.

Kyoutani can feel annoyance claw into his chest at how worked up he’s getting. ‘There's no reason to be embarrassed,’ he thinks stubbornly, ‘the others sleep like this all the time, huddled against each other’.

His heart’s beating fast – unused to physical contact with anyone who isn’t a dog or one of his close family members. He doesn't even want to _think_ of what Yahaba'd say if he heard his heart racing like that. Do all his teammates feel like this? It can’t be true, right? Why would they still do it, if that were the case? ‘It’s probably just a habit thing’, he decides. ‘It’s probably something like… some sort of illness that you have to build up antibodies against, before it can’t affect you anymore.’ He scrunches his nose at the thought of having to sit like this with random team members, slowly turning his head to continue his earlier staring out of the window without disturbing the sleeping setter on his shoulder.

*

They don’t talk about the sleeping thing when Yahaba wakes up – his snores halting as twitches shake his shoulders, before he suddenly _bolts_ upright, staring Kyoutani down like _he’s_ the weird one in this scenario.

That evening, he starts receiving good night texts too.

* * *

Kyoutani’s getting restless. It’s ridiculous. No, not even that – it’s batshit crazy, that’s what it is. He’s been doing fine for years; no need for constant contact from other people. So why does it bother him this much that Yahaba’s ignoring him? He pauses his absent petting, Suki’s warm presence a grounding weight on his lap.

They’d been fine, after the bus incident. Both had silently decided that not addressing it was the best course of action. Nothing would change because of it. Or, at least, that’s what he’d thought before the sudden radio silence. It’s unsettling; the speed at which he’s gotten used to Yahaba’s constant whining – to the constant attention. He checks his phone _again_, for what feels like the 400th time.

**Yahaba Shigeru, (13:42): “Bitch please”**

**Karaage Ken, (13:42): “Shut up”**

**Karaage Ken, (14:56): “Wow, saying that hsn’t ever wrked this well before”**

**Karaage Ken, (15:32): “Y’know it’s a joke, right?”**

Everything’s still the same. It’s been 5 hours, and Kentarou hasn’t felt this uncomfortable about _not_ talking to someone in a very long time. Friday and Saturday had been fine, so why ignore him now? Or is it truly just a reaction to his text? Kyoutani’s shoulders jerk in surprise when Suki jumps from his lap with a huff, displeased by the lack of continuing pats he’d come to expect from his owner. Kyoutani watches him as he trots away, his mind already drifting. He’d only felt like this once before, with Kousuke, when his friend had moved away. But then again, Kousuke’s case had been… different, in every way. There was no use comparing the two.

Kyoutani moves back a bit; using Suki’s departure to slide open the window. He rests his back against the wooden frame, shuffling a bit more to the edge of the windowsill and staring outside. The wind softly blowing in his face forms a great distraction. He wishes it would take all the unnecessary thoughts that plague his mind with it, while it dances through his hair; kind of like what they always say in those stupid mindfulness videos his mom likes so much. 

The peaceful feeling doesn’t last long. Kyoutani clenches his eyes shut when he feels anger bubbling to the surface. He knows Yahaba’s childish, but _really?_ It’s not like Kyoutani was _that_ rude, he talks like that all the time anyway. Yahaba should’ve _known_ it was just a joke. And it’s not like he’ll be able to ignore him for long – they will see each other in a couple of hours for morning practice.

He throws his cell phone to his bed, breath hitching when it bounces on his mattress and almost crashes into the floor. Two can play this game. He doesn’t need attention from anyone. He _doesn’t_.

* * *

It takes approximately 127 seconds for Kyoutani to notice that something’s off, and 4 more minutes for that feeling to be proven correct by a smiling Watari, who immediately after talking to the coaches turns around and makes a beeline for Kentarou. Yahaba’s still nowhere to be seen. It’s the first time that he’s ever been late for training, as far as Kyoutani knows.

“Yo, Kyoutani!”

Kyoutani says nothing, narrowing his eyes in suspicion at the approaching libero.

“Are you ready to coach practice now?”

“What?” The comment catches him off guard, and he falters; his tone surprised instead of baring its usual grunt.

Watari laughs. “Chill out, I’m just joking. It’s not like coach would leave you the reigns just like that. I think Oikawa’s going to take over today.”

Irihata calls out to the team, ordering them to gather around before Kyoutani can ask anything else. The annoyance that had been simmering in the back of his mind has turned into light worry. Yahaba isn’t one to skip practice without reason.

“Yahaba’s ill and won’t come to practice for a couple of days. Oikawa will take over in the meantime.” Kyoutani can feel the air still around him as he ignores Watari nudging him in his side. ‘_Oh._ Well then.’

*

Shinji corners him at noon. The fact that Yahaba’s sick hasn’t impacted their routine, and they still walk and eat together. They’ve just been talking about pro volleyball for a while, and Kyoutani is actually _cheerful_ – happy to rant about his favourite player, who he sort of modelled his hairstyle after. Watari must have seen his enthusiasm as the perfect moment to strike, because he suddenly interrupts their conversation to say: “Hey Kyou, you could do me a favour, right?”

Kyoutani, still unaware of the danger he’s facing, just hums in question. Watari seems perfectly fine with interpreting this as consent, though.

“That’s great! I kinda don’t have time to bring those notes at all, and I thought-” He quiets at Kyoutani’s confused gaze, visibly gulping before he says. “You know, I was just thinking you could… I kind of need to deliver some papers this evening, but it’s on the other side of town and I promised to babysit my niece. Could you bring them for me? It’s only a couple of minutes from your house.”

Kyoutani slows his chewing. If it’s just a couple of minutes away, he can probably deliver some papers and still be home in time for Suki. It’s been a long time since a friend (or anyone) has asked him to help them with something. It feels unexpectedly good.

He nods.

“Yes! You’re a saviour! I’ll give them to you after school, okay? Misa will deliver them when her classes have finished.” This line should have served as a warning sign, but Kentarou ignores it – unconcerned with the papers he just promised to deliver.

He only realizes whom he’s supposed to visit when Watari jogs towards him before evening practice, a thin folder with notes and homework beneath his arm. He raises his hands when Kyoutani starts glowering at him.

“_Why_ are you even looking at me like that? You’re friends now, right?”

Well, Kyoutani had thought so too. But he tends to doubt friendships with anyone who thinks it’s apparently too much work to even sent a short text to let him know they’re sick. He knows he’s being stupid about this. It feels hollow – and that pisses him off even more.

“I don’t even know where he lives. ‘never told me.”

“I’ll give you the address, it’s really close to your house actually, only around 6 minutes away, I think. Maybe 7.” He huffs a laugh, misinterpreting Kyoutani’s frown. “It’s not like you’ll get sick just by entering his house, dude. I promised his mom someone would drop by to bring him his schoolwork.”

Kyoutani raises his brow. “You text his mom?”

Watari stares at him incredulously. “Who do you think told me he was sick? I’ve known Shigeru for years – she called me to ask if I could tell the coaches.”

The knowledge makes something loosen inside Kyoutani’s chest and he suddenly feels sheepish, accepting the papers without a word and motioning with his head towards the gym.

During their walk, he shoots a quick text to his dad; asking him if there’ll be someone at home to greet Suki, because he might not make it in time. He isn’t planning on staying at Yahaba’s house for long, but you know… Just in case.

*

Kyoutani holds his breath as he presses the doorbell, letting it out in a rush of air when he hears someone walk through what’s probably a hallway, approaching the door. The woman opening the front door for him is beautiful – in an elegant, motherly sort of way. She’s wearing a green dress that matches her eyes, and her light brown hair is pinned up into a classy bun in her neck. Kyoutani suspects his sister would _love_ her sense of style. He gives a little cough, painfully aware of the perplexed look she’s giving him. If Watari sent him to the wrong house, he’s going to _kill_ him – then revive him, only to _kill him again_. He hasn’t even opened his mouth yet, but this already feels painfully awkward.

“Hi. Euh, ma’am.” He coughs again, hoping that he at least doesn’t sound as gruff as usual. “I’m here for Yahaba…? I have his notes, and stuff.”

The woman’s expression changes instantly – a big smile blooming on her face. “Ah, yes, yes! Shinji-kun texted me that someone from the team would come for my boy. Come in, come in!” Kyoutani can only stare at her face as she all but _drags_ him inside. She has dimples. An unwelcome thought makes him wonder if Yahaba would have dimples too, if he’d smile at him like that.

She closes the door behind them and turns to give him a second look. Something seems to click in her mind, because her eyes widen before she happily exclaims: “You’re the dog boy!” Content with her new discovery, she turns and ushers him to a door at the end of the hall, which turns out to lead to the kitchen. Kyoutani uses her lack of attention to scowl, shrugging off his backpack the second he enters the room – ready to leave this house as soon as possible.

_Really?_ It’s not like Yahaba and he have been best friends forever, but he _did_ hope to not be confronted with the stupid nickname that that asshole of a- “The German Shepherd, yeah?”

“What?” He’s so startled that he automatically grunts out his reply, changing it to a “What did you say, ma’am?” before she can react. Her beaming smile falters a little, doubt seeping into her features.

“You’re the teammate with the dogs, right? With the German Shepherd?” She sees _something_ in his eyes that confirms her suspicions, because her smile broadens again as she nudges him into one of the chairs closest to the kitchen table. She’s stronger than she appears at first glance, just like her son.

“I thought so! Shigeru told me about it. It’s the hair, you know. Not to be rude – but you’re quite recognizable, even without ever having seen you before.” Kyoutani gapes at her as she draws her fingers through her bangs, imitating his haircut. He simply nods, still stunned that she knows about his dogs. “He told me that you had stripes in your hair. I didn’t entirely understand, at the time – but I do know, I guess.” She laughs, and Kyoutani quickly closes his mouth as he realizes she’s still waiting for him to respond.

“Euh, yes. We have a Shepherd and a Pomeranian.”

“That’s great! We only have Sakura here, but she’s such a good girl. She’s with Shigeru now, so you can see her later. What do you want to drink?”

“Euh… I don’t-…” Kyoutani doesn’t know how to hold himself in this situation. He half expected to just walk in, quickly give someone the papers and leave again – but it seems like Yahaba’s mother isn’t planning on letting him go that easily.

She _does_ seem to catch on to his hesitation though. “Oh my, are you in a hurry? I didn’t want to assume-?”

“No- no, it’s alright.” Even her voice sounds like Yahaba’s – enough so that it’s disorienting to hear her talk in such an apologetic tone. He appears to have given the right answer, because her earlier smile returns in full force as she moves to the stove, searching for a kettle to start making tea.

“That’s great! He’s been so droopy all day. Lord knows that the men of this house are _horrible_ when they’re sick. It’ll do him good to see a close friend of his.”

If this conversation would’ve taken place two months ago, Kyoutani’d automatically have denied the fact that Yahaba and he were even friends at all, let alone close ones. Now though, he doesn’t really know what they are. He can’t deny the fact that Yahaba and his relationship has changed and that they’ve gotten a lot closer, so maybe she’s right… Maybe they could count as close friends.

“Do you want sugar in your tea-?“ she looks at him questioningly, and Kyoutani realizes he hasn’t actually introduced himself yet. This whole conversation is kind of a mess. “Kyoutani Kentarou, ma’am. And no, thank you.”

“Okay, Kyoutani-kun, here you are.” She hands over a dark grey tea cup, motioning to the tray at the edge of the table. “Would you like to use the tray to go up? I was about to ask if you would carry some soup with you, for Shigeru? If that’s okay with you?”

Kyoutani nods – deciding that remaining silent is the best way to improve their conversation, and positions his cup on the tray as he watches her pour out some soup that was warming on the stove. He reaches out to take the soup from her, letting his hands awkwardly hover in the air as she considers him thoughtfully, the bowl of soup still clutched in her hands.

“You know, it might be a bit weird for me to raise the subject-” ‘_Then don’t do it!_’ Kyoutani thinks desperately, hoping his facial expression remains blank. “-I know teenagers don’t really like talking about this stuff. But I’m very happy that you came to visit Shigeru. He talks about his friends often, you know. He’s very fond of the team.”

Kyoutani wonders what Yahaba’s expression would look like if he knew his mother was talking like this to his _‘close friend’_. He also wonders what Mrs. Yahaba would say if he told her that the rekindling of their friendship started with her son pinning him against the wall during their last volleyball match.

He feels an uncomfortable shock surge through him as his brain provides him with the imagery of Yahaba telling her about all the ways Kyoutani cusses him out on a regular basis. If he _did_ tell her, she’s either forgotten about it or she’s very good at faking kindness.

He’s finally able to leave the kitchen a couple of minutes later, having spent a considerable amount of time convincing Mrs. Yahaba that he really _did not_ need to eat some cake before visiting her son – her instructions steering him towards a wooden staircase leading to the second floor. He doubts that he’ll be able to ‘_cheer up’_ Yahaba as much as she’s expecting him to. Despite the text he’d sent, Yahaba might still be expecting Watari or Oikawa to visit him instead.

It isn’t hard to locate Yahaba’s room, seeing that there’s a nameplate on his door. He snorts at the childish scrawled kanji, noting the door’s the slightest bit ajar. Well – that sorts the problem of knocking while carrying a tray.

The longer he stands in front of that door, the worse it will be to enter. He softly kicks against the wood twice instead of knocking, pushing it open with his shoulder and shuffling inside as quickly as possible, without spilling anything. He resolutely does _not_ look at the bed that faces the doorway, turning left to deposit the tray on the desk facing the bedroom windows. The curtains are half-opened, letting the light of the setting sun coat the room in rose gold. He cracks his knuckles before slowly turning around and, surprisingly, is confronted with attentive gold-brown eyes.

He’d totally forgotten about the dog.

She’s laying at the end of Yahaba’s bed, cocking her head curiously at the stranger that’s just entered. A quick glance to Yahaba shows that his eyes are still closed, so Kentarou slowly moves forward, hoping that Sakura will be as nice as Yahaba has claimed she is. He must admit he’s a little surprised – a white Pitbull wasn’t exactly what Kyoutani had expected. He’d figured Yahaba to be more of a Shiba Inu kind of guy. He thinks back to their conversations – for all of Yahaba’s chattering about his dog, he’d never actually mentioned what breed she was.

He’s right in front of the dog now, letting her sniff his fingers before carefully petting her behind the ears. She pants happily, her tail slowly thumping on the blanket. He’s busy moving to the side of the bed, where he’ll be able to pet her more easily, when he rests his weight on a plank that makes the _loudest_ fucking creaking noise he’s ever heard. He’s reaching out to continue petting Sakura, when-

“Kentarou?”

Kyoutani stiffens, suddenly focussed on the level of creepiness someone must have to enter another person’s room without saying anything, and continue to pet their dog while they’re asleep. But then again – Yahaba’s said something even weirder.

The boy in question is slowly crawling upright out of his cocoon of blankets. His normally perfect haircut is tousled and stands up in some places. His face is pale, making the bags under his eyes stand out even more. He looks miserable – shivering as he pulls the blanket up towards his shoulders, unbothered by Sakura’s weight at the end of his bed. As a whole, he looks-

“You look like shit.”

Shigeru processes this slowly – which is a much more alarming sign of his being ill than his appearance could ever be. He focuses intently on Kyoutani’s face – gaze getting sharper with every second he strays further from sleep.

“Are you here to laugh at me or something?”

Kyoutani’s speechlessness evaporates on the spot.

“I have better humour than that. Also; your mom forced me to bring you food.” This actually makes Yahaba _laugh_. Kyoutani blinks. Yahaba may be ill, but he looks… Softer, somehow. Not as filtered and composed as usual.

Sakura perks up at the laughter of her owner. She turns and moves her body to the left side of the bed, so she can drape her head over Shigeru’s lap. Yahaba smiles tiredly at her. “’s Sakura. I got her when I started high school an-”

“I know,” Kyoutani mumbles, “y’told me before – I remember”.

“Ah…” Yahaba lets his head rest against the wall behind his bed. “So why did you come ‘round?”

“Brought your school shit. Your mom asked Watari, and he sent _me_.”

“And you said yes?”

“Well I’m here, ain’t I?”

“Right, right… Uhm… Thanks.”

It’s disconcerting how out of breath Yahaba seems, after only such a short conversation. He sounds hoarse, and Kyoutani remembers why he came up here in the first place. “D’you want your food? It’s soup?” He walks back to the desk to retrieve the tray – missing Yahaba shaking his head behind his back. He doesn’t miss the whining though.

“Noooooo-“

“… What?” It’s a sound of bewilderment, more than an actual question.

“Don’t want it!”

He’s pouting.

Ever-composed Yahaba Shigeru is honest to god _pouting_ in his bed, with his tousled hair and his blanket cape. Kyoutani considers throwing the soup bowl at his head.

He tries to force the soup into the brunette’s hands, but Yahaba is so weak he almost drops it in his lap. Kyoutani starts to frown again. Caring for sick people isn’t exactly his forte. Is it normal for people’s strength to leave them this quickly, after only 2 days of illness? If Kentarou hadn’t been currently staring at the way Yahaba’s hands were shaking, he might have called him out on it.

“Come on.” He coughs awkwardly. “You need to eat. Your mom told me so. And the earlier you get better, the sooner Oikawa isn’t in charge anymore.”

“There’s no sense in eating if I’m just going to throw it all up again.”

“It’s better than eating nothing.” He pushes a spoon into Yahaba’s hand, taking back the bowl and raising it a little, so it doesn’t spill over the covers. “You _do_ remember how to use a spoon, right?”

The comment fails to get the usual raise out of the setter. He just keeps on pouting – the spoon limp between trembling fingertips.

“Do I need to _force_ your food into you, or something?”, Kentarou wonders aloud. He almost misses Yahaba’s short nod. “What are you, an infant? You honestly expect me to feed you?” He can feel horror mounting in his chest as the silence after his question stretches on. Yahaba’s just staring at him, still resting against the wall. Kyoutani had started to lean forward while he was talking – from this close, he can see the sweat drops on Yahaba’s forehead, causing his hair to curl against his skin. _What the fuck_ has his life turned into?

He grumbles out a curse as he snatches the spoon from Yahaba’s listless fingers and starts slowly serving him his soup.

It’s slow. And stupid. And intimate. Like he’s some kind of personal nurse. Yahaba whines through the largest part of it, only stopping when Kyoutani threatens to pour it all over his head. He’s acting like a toddler, and it makes Kyoutani feel like he’s in some sort of weird fever dream.

The conversation starts back up again, when the soup’s finally finished, and Yahaba laughs at Kyoutani’s disgust as he takes a sip from his now cold tea. He laughs even harder when Kyoutani complains about the way Yahaba’s mother tried to force some cake onto him. Kentarou wonders if it’s smart to make the other boy laugh this hard when he’s just eaten – but it appears to have taken Yahaba’s mind from feeling like shit for a while, so he leaves it be.

“That’s quite amazing, actually. Only few people can resist my mom’s cooking – she tries to feed anyone who enters our house. It’s nearly impossible to enter and leave without eating anything.”

The lull of silence draws Kyoutani’s mind back to the anger he felt yesterday. He’s still wondering… “Why didn’t you tell-”, he cuts himself off before the ‘me’ can leave his lips. He’d care more about how invested he sounds if he hadn’t just _spoon fed_ this idiot his meal, but _still_. “Why’s it that you were so surprised, earlier? I sent you a message after practice; that I would bring your papers, but you said you didn’t know it would be me?”

Yahaba sighs. “My cell phone’s downstairs. My mom took it with her when I started throwing up, she says I should _‘focus on getting better without distractions’_. It’s senseless really.”

“Oh…” Well, that explains a couple of things.

“How’s practice?”

*

The sky darkens as Kyoutani talks. Yahaba’s meticulous – even when ill, and he wants to know _everything_ that’s happened – from Watari’s new toss, to Hanamaki tripping over his own water bottle. He still looks tired and worn out, but Shigeru seems to like hearing about the team, even when he can’t be there himself. Maybe _especially_ when he can’t be there.

Kyoutani grins at Yahaba. He’s almost forgotten his reservations about coming here, sometime in the last half hour. “At least I don’t have to listen to you whining about bonding tactics anymore – now that you’re bedridden and all.”

Yahaba’s eyes narrow dangerously, and for a second he almost looks normal – like he isn’t cradling a bucket just in case he starts throwing up again. “Well. ‘Guess I can’t let you get away that easily, right? I don’t think I’ll be able to come to school tomorrow, but I could still call you, after practice. It’s almost the same as meeting up at your house anyway.” He starts grinning. “And it’ll get me back my phone. It’s quite brilliant actually – thanks for reminding me.”

Kyoutani doesn’t really see the merit in calling instead of texting, but still – It’s nice to know that Yahaba’s snark is still there, somewhere. Seeing him so lethargic and weak is just… it feels wrong.

It’s dark enough that they start having trouble seeing each other without the lights on, so Kyoutani decides to get ready to return back home. He pats Sakura in parting and reaches for Yahaba’s soup bowl at the same time as Yahaba starts lifting it – cupping his hands by accident, before awkwardly tugging the bowl from between his palms. Yahaba’s hands feel warm and clammy at the same time. Kentarou waits until he’s left the room to flex his fingers, trying to shake the weird sensation that’s settled into his pores.

*

They really do live close. Running home takes him only about 4 minutes – wind rushing through his hair as people turn to stare at him while he sprints down the street. He tries not to think too much about the conversations that have taken place over the last two hours.

*

Trying _not_ to think about something turns out to be nearly impossible. Yahaba’s laugh echoes in his head as he remembers him stating that ‘an ace is supposed to take care of their setter, since they’re useless otherwise’. _What kind of backwards logic is that?!_ Kyoutani recalls laughing at the idea of changing into Iwaizumi, aggressively caring for Oikawa. It isn’t as funny this time around, because isn’t that what he was doing, 30 minutes ago?

It’s only after dinner that the weirdest moment of the night suddenly pops back into his head, with the speed and weight of a freight train.

_“Kentarou?”_

What the fuck had _that_ been about? He knows it isn’t unusual for friends to call each other by their first names, but it’s not like they ever talked about it. Nobody uses ‘Kentarou’, except for his family. And it somehow feels… ‘It’s weird to hear it from someone when they’re just waking up’, he decides. Unsettling to hear it mumbled sleepily by someone who’s never used his name on other occasions. Is it normal to get chills whenever people call your name?

He marches out of his room to wash up – his mind still whirling when he finally returns and crawls under the covers. He curses as his thoughts refuse to settle down, aggressively kicking away his blankets as he moves to sit back up again. The moonlight filters through the curtains, but Kyoutani’s only able to distinguish silhouettes in the familiar darkness of his room. Everyone’s asleep – but even if they weren’t, they wouldn’t hear him if… Maybe he won’t think about it anymore, if he’d just-? It’s only a name, what harm will it do? It won’t feel as awkward when no one’s there to see him, right? He should just…

“Shigeru.”

It feels weird in his mouth, and it sounds even stranger – to hear that name spoken aloud by his own voice. Too low-pitched, in the darkness. Like it’s something that’s frowned upon. Something you should never say. Something that isn’t allowed.

He lets himself fall back against his mattress, grabbing his blankets from the floor and dragging them on top of him. He tries not to think of anything as he turns and buries his face into his pillow. It feels like he lost… something, somehow. A game he didn’t know he’d been participating in.

He can feel something swirl in his stomach, and he hopes he hasn’t caught whatever it is that’s plaguing Yahaba.

* * *

Yahaba keeps his word and calls him the next evening, after Kyoutani confirms he’s finished his schoolwork. His voice is still raspy, but he sounds a lot better already. It turns into an impromptu study session for a while, since Yahaba can’t make sense of some of the questions in his homework. Kyoutani tries and answers as best as he can, wondering all the while why Yahaba hasn’t called Watari instead – the libero’s far better at this type of stuff.

Their conversation naturally flows to the team and other subjects, lasting until Kyoutani’s mom calls for him to go to sleep. He’s brushing his teeth when his phone dings, deciding to check the message out later.

He forgets about the message when he’s going through his playlist – relaxing into his pillow while listening to his favourite music. It’s only a couple of minutes after he’s put away his phone that he remembers – blindly grabbing his cell phone, only to see that Yahaba’s sent him an audio message about half an hour ago.

It takes more time than he wants to admit to plug in his earphones in the dark, but he refuses to exit the warmth of his bed, just to turn on the lights for a second. He exhales a sigh of satisfaction when he’s finally succeeded – laying down on his pillow again as he checks out the audio. _‘It’s only 2 seconds long?’_ He ups the volume a little before tapping the notification, closing his eyes in the meantime.

_“Good night.”_

Kentarou’s eyes fly open – causing him to stare blankly at the dark void that hides his ceiling. He doesn’t know what he expected, but Yahaba’s slightly hoarse voice whispering into his ear in the dark sure wasn’t it.

He clicks play again.

“Good night.”

_“… Fuck._”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ya boy caught feelings! Or, more like; he finally realized he had them :p
> 
> Thank you so much to everyone who left a comment on my first chapter – I can’t wait to see what you think about this one! ^^
> 
> Also: please check out this AMAZING artwork by [Redd](https://twitter.com/redemsi/status/1298493425776381954?s=19)! :D I'm very happy that I commissioned him, the experience itself was wonderful and his art is really great!


	3. I don't need any illusions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Oikawa sounds so perplexed – If it weren’t for Iwaizumi’s current exasperation, he’d have laughed at him for it. His almost-laughter turns into a groan when Oikawa’s eyes light up with enthusiasm. “_Oh my god,_ is he trying to court him? He is, isn’t he?! See?! I told you _months ago_ that this would happen, Iwa-chan – you never listen!”_
> 
> _“He’s just giving him a water bottle, Tooru.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the people who may have been wondering about my notes in the last chapter – one of my most treasured moments in film history takes place in the 2005 movie adaptation of Pride & Prejudice when Darcy helps Elizabeth back into her carriage and stretches his hands when he walks back to his manor – like he can still feel her touch somehow. This moment always touches my soul when I see it play out on the screen, so I wanted to see if I could mirror it with the accidental touching when Kyoutani tries to take Yahaba’s soup bowl back :p
> 
> I hope you all had a nice week and enjoy this chapter!

_ (3 weeks ago) _

“_Since when_ do you go babysitting?!”

Watari has the nerve to wink before replying: “I ‘applied for a job’ the second your mom texted me. You don’t have to thank me, Shigeru! I know; I’m a genius!”

“You’re an _asshole_!”

“What? _Why?_ I LITERALLY got him to visit you – and, knowing your mother –bring you food while you were sick? That’s a better distraction from illness than money can buy?”

“I had to fucking _puke_ after he spoon-fed me soup, you _ass!_”

“Ah, well… I guess that means things can’t get any more awkward than _that,_ so you have nothing to worry about, then. He knows where you live now – just make him visit you again?”

Shigeru huffs, turning his gaze stubbornly away from his best friend. “There’s no difference between him visiting me or the other way around.”

“Suuuuuuuuuuure… You’d totally behave the same way in your own room compared to the house of your-“

“Shut it!”

“Don’t be so uptight, Shigeru. This is an opportunity! You can invite him into your room again? Preferably without the barf bucket this time.”

Yahaba’s stomach drops as he turns to head back to the gym – realizing the end of their conversation hadn’t been as private as he’d thought.

Kyoutani was right after all. Oikawa _does_ look an awful lot like a hyena sometimes.

*

It takes 6 days for Yahaba to crack.

Oikawa’s been making one whispered joke after another, and Shigeru is hanging onto the last of his nerves. He knows Oikawa would never laugh at him for this, not _really_ – but every whispered innuendo makes him feel like his face will melt right from his skull because of all the blushing. He’s never been this grateful for Iwaizumi’s proximity on the court before, because it means his captain will shut up once in a while.

Iwaizumi’s not here at the moment, though.

“-and in your _room?_ After just a couple of weeks? How _forward_ of you.”

“I was _ILL,_ Oikawa-san!?”

Tooru laughs, and Yahaba wishes he could kick his ass the same way Iwaizumi does sometimes. He probably shouldn’t have replied – but if his head keeps turning any redder, the coaches might decide to call an ambulance for safety’s sake. Kyoutani’s been shooting him weird looks for the last couple of days as well.

“He just talked to me, and I ate soup. There really is no reason for all this-”

“Ah?”, the glint in Oikawa’s eyes alerts Shigeru to the fact that he just made a huge mistake. “Feeding each other already, yeah? That’s great, Shige-chan! And don’t even try to deny it – I _heard_ you and Watari last week. Well, you in particular, that is. Wailing about your problems in the courtyard doesn’t really help with keeping secrets, you know?”

Shigeru sighs, defeated – only to look back up again when Oikawa rests a hand on his shoulder. “You know you can tell me to stop, right? You can always come talk to me, if you want. About anything. Even if it’s just to tell me to drop it. Talking about this can be enlightening.” He squeezes Yahaba’s shoulder at the other boy’s small nod. “Good, good. ‘Might have to stop joking for now, your face is clashing _horribly_ with our jerseys.”

Oikawa pauses for a couple of seconds, silently observing his kouhai. He takes a step back when he concludes Yahaba has nothing left to say, already raising his hand to wave in Hanamaki’s direction when-

“I don’t… really know what to do about it.”

Yahaba refuses to look at his captain as he talks, his glance shifting all around the room to avoid the upperclassman in front of him. Tooru simply hums in reply, patiently waiting for Yahaba to go on. Of course the only time Yahaba truly _needs_ him to lead the conversation is the same time he shuts up.

Oikawa seems to sense Yahaba’s unease, turning to look at the wall instead of his kouhai as he says: “What is it you want?”

“What-?“ Why would he even ask? He already knows what Shigeru wants, right? _Who_ he wants? Why make him say it out loud?

Yahaba’s fidgeting intensifies as he struggles to force the words out. “I want… I want to-” He shifts his weight from side to side, thinking hard. “It doesn’t matter. What I want… It won’t…”

“Don’t do what I did, Shige-chan. Pining isn’t as romantic in real life as they make it seem in the movies. It mostly hurts. You don’t _have_ to do anything, of course. Decide what you want most – it’ll help you move on, I promise. Regret can hurt _just as much_ as rejection.”

“I don’t know if… I mean… He’s _good_. He is. He’s a good person. I know he wouldn’t hate me, or anything, just for- And he might still… Maybe he would-?”

Oikawa remains silent as Yahaba falters, trying to refrain from stuttering incoherently at the thought that _maybe_ there is a small chance that they’d-

“We haven’t been friends for that long yet. Suddenly asking him out would be awkward as hell.”

“Ah, well, Kyouken is awkward by default, so I don’t see how that matters?” Oikawa’s smile isn’t unkind when he glances at Yahaba. “Embrace it. You’ll cancel out each other’s awkwardness in the end.”

“I don't think that that's how it works, Oikawa-san.”

The captain shrugs, unbothered by Yahaba’s resistance. “Well, it’s not like I can solve this for you. It’s a choice you’ll have to make on your own, no matter how much I wish I could help you. That doesn’t mean we can’t talk about this more – later, if you want to? Doubt sucks. I know what it feels like.”

Yahaba nods, calmed down by the serenity Oikawa’s exuding. Talking to his senpai might have been a good idea after all.

*

He retracts his statement several days later, picking up his pace as he tries to flee from Oikawa for the third time that day – his strides just shy of running. No matter how well his senpai’s intentions are, some things he’d rather _not_ talk about to a teammate. He can still hear the other boy following him – determined to share even more of his _‘wisdom’_.

“I promise I _really_ _don’t_ need that, Oikawa-san!” His voice echoes through the corridor as he narrowly escapes crashing into a first-year girl.

“You can never be too safe, Shigeru! Listen to your senpai on this matter!”

Yahaba’s cheeks burn as he falls into a run, determined to evade Oikawa and his package of ‘important necessities any young man should have, Shige-chan, ‘cause you never know what might happen in the future’.

Enlightenment comes at quite a cost, indeed.

* * *

The only redeeming aspect about the current situation is the fact that Kyoutani knows Yahaba’s preferences. The setter’s never been shy about the fact that he appreciates all genders – so that means Kentarou has a _small_ chance, at least. Not that it makes any of this even the slightest bit less nerve-wracking.

Yahaba returns to practice on Wednesday morning, even if he isn’t allowed to participate in the actual training yet. He sits near the coaches, and it’s like someone has decided to place a force field around him while he was sick – _gravity itself_ is trying to pull Kyoutani’s focus away from the field and towards silvery-brown hair. It takes a lot of concentration to remain focused on the ball in front of him, lest he wants to receive Hanamaki’s spike with his face. The sudden drive to prove himself and _show off_ couldn’t have come at a more inopportune moment - the subject of his distraction being the same reason he wants to prove himself in the first place.

He’d been thinking about it the whole way to school, and it wasn’t hard to come to a decision; volleyball would probably be the best way to go, if he wants Yahaba to notice him. He _has_ to watch him during practice – as his setter, it’s a given. If he gets Yahaba to admire him that way, maybe he can start to improve his opinion about Kentarou’s other qualities too. It sounds a bit stupid, he admits, but it’s the best shot he has. It’s not like Yahaba will come running after him without effort, after all.

“-ani? … Kyoutani?”

_“hah?”_

“Did you fall asleep while standing? Practice’s over – you’re going to be late for class if you don’t hurry.”

“Whuh? Yeah, I-… Yes.” Kyoutani tries his hardest not to cringe at his own ineloquence. Did he _have_ to sneak up on him like that?

Yahaba frowns, his eyes moving as if he’s scanning Kyoutani’s face for something. “You sure? You looked flushed.”

“’s just from practice.”

The explanation seems to placate Yahaba, who puts his hand on Kyoutani’s shoulder to start pushing him towards the club room. “You’re still going to be late if you keep standing around like this.”

‘It’s sad how his reactions to Yahaba’s touch are becoming _this_ pathetic, _this_ quickly,’ Kyoutani thinks, keeping in his sigh as Shigeru’s hand eventually drops from his shoulder again. The fact that Yahaba’s already back at school means that he’ll have to figure out how to carry himself quicker than he expected, but it also means no more torturous late night audios with hoarse voices. It’s shameful to recall how many times he re-listened to that two second audio clip. Probably more than is strictly normal… He shakes his head, focusing on Yahaba’s voice again. If he wants to win him over, it’s probably best to start paying more attention when he’s speaking.

“-and she just kept going on _and on_. What did you do? Hex her or something?”

“Eh?”, Kyoutani says dumbly, distracted by Yahaba’s laughter.

“_My mom?!_ She seems to think you’re _‘such a polite boy, Shigeru!’_ It was _way_ too funny.”

“I can be polite.”

“mm- yes, of course, my apologies.”

Kyoutani’s glare lacks true heat as he glowers at Yahaba, taking in the pinched lips and mirthful eyes. Shigeru’s putting in no effort to hide his amusement.

“Anyway – I wanted to ask you something. I mean- I had an idea. That might be good. If you think so. _I _think so, but if you don’t, then-“ “Spit it out already.” Yahaba’s dancing around whatever subject it is that he wants to talk about, is only succeeding in putting Kyoutani more on edge by the second.

“WouldyoulikeitifIhelpedwalkthedogswithyou?” It takes a couple of seconds for Kyoutani’s brain to process that particular stream of words, and Yahaba sighs, his smile still lingering. “I thought I’d offer to help walk the dogs, so you don’t have to do it alone. If you want to, that is?” he goes on when he sees Kyoutani open his mouth to reply, “-to pay you back for the notes. From class.”

“You… don’t have to do that. For the notes? It’s okay, it’s not like you owe me.”

“Ah, yeah, well. I like dogs, so… I don’t really mind.”

Kyoutani’s face softens, thinking back at Yahaba petting Aiko in his room. They’ve never hung out for volleyball-unrelated reasons before…

“’kay.”

*

“You know, I’ve never had anyone address me as ‘school-friend-kun’ before.”

“Shut up.”

Yahaba laughs. _Of course_ his dad had to be there when they got home to fetch Aiko and Suki for a walk.

“He thinks he’s funny.”

Yahaba’s still sniggering. “I mean, he kinda was. Wait ‘till you meet _my_ father – he’s all dad jokes and nothing else, it’s pretty awful.”

Kyoutani hums in reply, taking Suki’s leash into his left hand when his Pomeranian decides the nearby picket fence is much more interesting than the red mailbox he’d been sniffing at earlier.

“So… Does this mean you don’t rage about the team at home?”

Kyoutani peeks at his companion’s face, but Yahaba’s eyes are firmly focused on Aiko’s back in front of him. There’s some… edge to his voice that Kentarou can’t quite place. Was he insulted by the fact that Kyoutani’s dad didn’t know who he was, but Yahaba’s mom did?

“I don’t really… I _do_ talk about the team. Sometimes,” he mumbles. “He’s just… not used to me taking home… friends.”

“Oh? Okay…? So you never-?”

“I’m not exactly the popular type.”

Kyoutani clenches his jaw, irritated by the awkward air that starts to swirl around them in thick waves. He hates this subject. “My best friend moved when I was 11. I got pretty mad about it. Haven’t invited people over since.” He avoids Yahaba’s gaze as he talks, unwilling to deal with the expression the setter’s probably wearing.”

“Well… ‘guess I’ll just have to tell him my name the next time, then.”

“Next-?”

It’s Yahaba’s turn to avoid Kyoutani’s gaze. “I was just thinking… I take longer walks with Sakura during the weekend. So I thought, if you wanted…?”

Kyoutani bites the insides of his cheeks to resist smiling like an idiot.

“Whatever.”

* * *

They go on their next walk on Friday. Kyoutani has left Suki at home; the smaller dog was still too jittery to visit the dog park they were heading to.

They take a step back as they release their dogs – Yahaba a bit slower as he still needs to unclip the leash from Sakura’s blue collar. The dogs take off – ecstatic to be able to run at full speed in between the greenery, their owners following them at a much calmer pace.

Yahaba’s twirling the loop of the leash around his fingers as they walk. Kyoutani wonders when he started playing around with every object that wasn’t welded stuck to the floor. He breathes in deeply, trying to ground himself. _‘This is going to work._ He’ll accept. If Yahaba didn’t want to spend time with him, he wouldn’t have offered to do this in the first place. It’s going to _work_.’

“I’m planning on walking here again, this Sunday, if you’re interested.”

“With or without the dogs?”

Yahaba bursts out laughing at Kyoutani’s expression, wiping his eyes when he hiccups to a stop. “I’m sorry – you should’ve seen your face.” He shakes his hair out of his eyes, cheeks pink from his laughter. “I don’t have anything planned. Do you want to do something after?”

* * *

**Yahaba Shigeru, (22:11): “So what are we doing tmrw?”**

**Karaage Ken, (22:14): “Ever seen Deadpool?”**

* * *

**Karaage Ken, (09:46): “U alright wth 14h?”**

**Karaage Ken, (11:11): “?”**

**Karaage Ken, (12:58): “Oi? U still alive?”**

**Yahaba Shigeru, (13:00): “srry fr not aswring, just woke up”**

**Karaage Ken, (13:02): “it’s 13h?”**

**Yahaba Shigeru, (13:08): “Time isn’t real”**

* * *

When Kyoutani’d envisioned watching a movie with Yahaba, he’d thought about the two of them lounging on the couch, downstairs, eating popcorn. He hadn’t expected-

“Move over a bit, will you? I’m going to fall off your bed.”

“Good riddance.”

“Yeah, _right_ – You’d be lost without me.”

“Tsk. What’s that look supposed to mean?”

“Nothing~”

“’m gonna throw you off my bed.”

They’re perched against the headboard of his bed, Kyoutani’s laptop in front of them. Yahaba’s body is balanced against Kyoutani’s left side – electricity jumping from his shoulder to his palm and fingers every time Yahaba so much as twitches. The guy just can’t. Sit. Still.

Kentarou feels like his head is on fire. He has a vague wish to take off his shirt and cool down a bit, but that would make things even weirder. They’re halfway through the movie when Kyoutani dies. Kind of. Nearly.

“What the-?” *_Clash!*_

“Oh my fucking god, your laptop!”

Yahaba jumps off the bed to retrieve the fallen laptop, quickly turning it in his hands. “I can’t see anything wrong with it. Did you just _kick_ _it_ off the bed?”

“’t was an accident…”

Kyoutani’s still dazed. He had turned to Yahaba – ready to point out a scene he liked, when the other boy had moved forward to… No, not exactly move – when he’d started _leaning_ _in,_ like he was planning to-

Kyoutani blinks as Yahaba walks to the other side of the bed, taking the glass of water he’d been reaching for earlier. _‘Ah.’ _

“What? Were you scared or something?” There’s a calculating glint in Yahaba’s eyes as he stares down at Kyoutani – far taller now that he’s standing next to the bed. He starts to lean forward again – putting his glass back down on the table, but keeping his face close to Kyoutani’s instead of moving back.

“It’s just a movie, you know. I thought you liked this?” Yahaba’s tone is light, but his eyes are sharp.

Kentarou can feel the fire dancing beneath his skin again. He gives a minute nod – barely moving until they’ve restarted the movie and Yahaba’s sitting next to him again. He barely registers the rest of the film.

That wasn’t… Earlier, was Yahaba…? He doesn’t know. He doesn’t know anything about this… Would it make Yahaba fall for him faster, if he plays into it? Something’s always up in the air – whenever the two of them are together. Kyoutani had been trying his best to make sure that the atmosphere was a relaxed one – so that they’d be able to ‘strengthen their connection’, or whatever it was that Oikawa called it. But no matter what he does, there’s just this… _tension_.

* * *

Monday starts off great. It’s been a long time since Kyoutani truly looked forward to going to school, but here he is. Even just _walking there_ feels better than it used to – nicer, somehow. It may have something to do with the phone conversation he’d had, yesterday evening.

After Yahaba left, Kentarou had stayed in his room, trying not to combust because of all the thoughts that were plaguing his mind - bouncing around in his skull like rapid fire bouncy balls. His plan needed to change. No matter how nice it’d sounded; preserving a calm and casual atmosphere around Yahaba was near impossible if he was unable to relax whenever the setter was close by.

So in the end, he’d done the one thing he’d promised himself to only do if the situation was dire – he’d called Mei. His sister may be a piece of work on the best of days, but she has a lot more experience in this field than he has. She’s also one of only people who knows he’s gay, and the only person who knows why it _really_ hurt him that much when Kousuke moved away. It isn’t that Kentarou’s ashamed, and he’s quite certain even his extended family doesn’t care about stuff like that – it’s just no one’s business except his own, in his opinion.

And she _did_ give him advice, after laughing at him for a solid 10 minutes. Regardless of her sniggering at his love life, Mei supports him through anything – and it’s nice to be able to lean on her, even if she’s hours away at the moment. The biggest thing he’s taken away from their conversation is also the one thing he wanted to avoid for as long as possible; hope. Her reactions have made him hopeful. Not the stuff where she says he’s awesome (even when he’s a grump), and Yahaba’d be lucky to have him (if he looked past the scowling) – but her reactions when he’d described Yahaba’s behaviour when they were alone. Contrary to his believes when he was young, his sister _isn’t _a witch and thus can’t see the future, but still… The things she had said made a little too much sense.

Despite his excitement, he’s still having trouble believing that Yahaba – _‘his’_ _Yahaba_ – would flirt with him. Willingly. Without being prompted. It just sounds too good to be true. So to be sure, he’d asked Mei what to look out for. It’s not like watching Yahaba’s behaviour would make _that_ much of a difference. Even if Shigeru showed _every single sign_ his sister had described, all during the next volleyball practice, he’d still wait a bit longer before…

Before what, actually? The idea of confessing makes something rise up in his stomach – and at this point he’s still unsure whether it’s bile or butterflies.

He’ll just have to take it slow. Even if nothing happens during practice, they’ve agreed to continue walking their dogs together, so he’ll have time. Lots of it.

* * *

Taking it slow turns out to be harder than expected.

He grinds his teeth as he has to watch Yahaba be practically _glued_ to Oikawa’s side for the fourth day in a row. His expectations of being able to spend more and more time with the up-and-coming captain had been proven false by the constant attention Yahaba was giving to his predecessor.

He gets it. A little bit… Like the rest of the team, Yahaba seems to carry a deep respect towards Oikawa. It’s clear that he’s concerned that as Oikawa’s kouhai, he needs to uphold some sort of stupid legacy and thus hangs onto every word that leaves the old captain’s mouth. Kyoutani gets that part. But the way he looks at Oikawa… It lights something else in Kyoutani. Something much deeper and more painful than the electricity that dances on his skin whenever they talk.

Yahaba doesn’t look at anyone the same way he looks at Oikawa – like he’s some sort of _setter deity_. Kyoutani jumps and serves the next ball with all his strength, scaring Kindaichi to death when the ball hits the floor right beside his right foot. He grunts out an apology, turning to take another ball and _willing himself_ not to look at the setter duo again. He feels stupid. Oikawa isn’t supposed to be a threat – not really. He may flirt with anything that has a pulse, but he’s loyal to Iwaizumi – even Kyoutani can see it, despite his distaste for all the flashy behaviour. It wouldn’t be… _shouldn’t be_ a problem. Except for the fact that Yahaba’s hanging around Iwaizumi more and more too. In all the weeks they’ve trained together, Yahaba has never hung around the third years as much as he does now. And still it might not have been a problem, if he just hadn’t been _blushing_ nearly half the time he’s by their side.

Even their now regular dog walks couldn’t shake the bitter taste that’s been in his mouth since Monday. This new perspective has changed everything Yahaba’s told him. Tells him. Even during their walk last night – each thing Yahaba’d hinted at, each comment and insinuation about the things he liked could’ve fit Iwaizumi at least as well as Kentarou.

His confidence has been steadily waning over the past few days, but he refuses to give up. He’s not quite sure what it is Yahaba likes most about the duo, but whatever it is – he’ll defeat them. Well – defeat Iwaizumi, maybe. He’s skipped the possibility of opposing Oikawa – the other boy so different from Kyoutani that he’d never have a chance. But Iwaizumi… if he grows past the ace, he’ll have more of a shot. Hopefully. Maybe it’ll even get Yahaba to look at him the way he looks at his precious senpai.

Kyoutani nods to himself, regaining his composure when he starts to focus on his goal again. He’s never beaten Iwaizumi before, and genuinely respects him for it, but it doesn’t matter. He’ll do it this time. He’ll have to, if he wants to impress Yahaba.

He’ll do it. Just you watch.

* * *

Kyoutani tries to contain the curses he wants to spit out, feeling them echo in his skull instead. All those movies that call jealousy cute and romantic are fucking horseshit. There’s nothing nice to it. Just- hurt. And nausea. That’s all there is…

It’s even worse because he _knows_ that he’s being ridiculous. This is just training, and Yahaba’s going to practice with Iwaizumi too – he’s their ace after all. But the _whole time_?! Is that really necessary?

He’s in the middle of shooting them one last glance when he happens to see the duo cheerfully high five. The palms of his hands start itching, and he furiously wipes them on his shorts as he turns – unwilling to just stare at them during the whole of practice. He has just decided to go practice near Kunimi when an even bigger menace appears behind him.

“You know, green really isn’t your colour, Kyouken-chan.”

Kyoutani’s whole body stiffens – ice spreading from his fingertips to nestle in his gut. _‘Does he know?!’_ Oikawa’s a giant shit. He likes to tease people, but he’s never been truly mean. _This_, though… if he makes jokes about this, not knowing what he’s talking about…? Kentarou holds in his breath, his mind repeating itself louder and louder. _Does he know? Does he know? Does he-_

“Don’t worry, I’m sure Iwa-chan will practice spikes with you, in a minute or so.”

Feeling returns to Kyoutani’s legs in a flash, and he almost stumbles because of it. Relief covers him like a heavy blanket as he lets out the breath he had been holding in one large heave. He starts to walk away, legs still a little wobbly and ignoring Oikawa as much as he can. With his back to his senpai, he doesn’t notice the glint in the captain’s eyes as a spark of inspiration hits him.

“You can go call Iwa-chan now. Don’t worry, _I’ll take care of Shigeru instead._”

Kyoutani turns around so quickly that he almost breaks his own neck, staring wide-eyed at Oikawa. “He’s our next setter after all,” the captain continues cheerfully, “we’d better take good care of him”. Kyoutani glares with as much contempt as he can manage, before turning his back on the other boy and walking away again. He doesn’t trust the setter’s smile in the slightest.

“Ah… So it _is_ what I thought, then?”

* * *

All in all, Kentarou’s plan is working quite well, he thinks. Yahaba’s face is still _too red_ when he’s close to the third years, but he feels like the setter is starting to react more to him too.

He’s been putting even more effort into his training – earning compliments more frequently (from all different team members, for that matter), even if the ones Shigeru gives make him push out his chest the most. The only downside to this is that it’s hard not to radiate pride whenever Yahaba pays him close attention or tells him how well he’s doing. The shift in Kyoutani’s behaviour is minimal, and only people that know ‘how he ticks’ would notice, like Mei. Annoyingly enough, there’s someone even more perceptive than his sister on their team.

He’s noticed Oikawa observing him closely more often, ever since he started his plan of impressing Yahaba. It’s gotten even worse after that stupid stunt he pulled two days ago – when it almost seemed that he knew… Whatever. Kyoutani still doesn’t like him, but he has reluctantly come to respect Oikawa a lot more than he used to. He still hasn’t figured out what the deal is, exactly, between his senpais and Yahaba – and the combination of that fact and Oikawa’s analysing stare is getting on his nerves.

But if Oikawa’s afraid that he might win Yahaba over, that only means that Kentarou should put in _even more_ effort. (And if it turns out that Yahaba _wasn’t_ what Oikawa was thinking about, then Kyoutani doesn’t really care about the subject of his captain’s thought process).

He’s come to be more vigilant in regards to their ace too – trying to see some kind of pattern that might attract Yahaba. It doesn’t work out all that well – his senpai still mostly shouts at Oikawa, cuffing him over the head and cursing when he strains himself too much or is being too boisterous. He’s decided to just follow his gut feeling – and instead of copying what Iwaizumi does, he enacts whatever little acts of kindness that come to him in the moment. (Mei’s reminder that Yahaba should like him for _him_ also might have had something to do with this tactic.) He doesn’t know if he’s lucky or if it’s just weird, that his behaviour still resembles Iwaizumi’s in the end, even if that isn’t what he’s trying to achieve.

So far, he’s mainly shared his lunch breaks with Yahaba – preparing his own bento yesterday, so that he could include more of the setter’s favourites (not that he’d ever tell him). He’s also started to help him in small ways, during practice – like picking up Yahaba’s stray balls or bringing a towel when his own is on the other side of the room.

It’s during one of those moments that he forgets to listen to their senpai’s mumbling – trained as he is at shutting out Oikawa’s voice.

*

“Iwa-chan! Iwa-chan, look!”

Iwaizumi’s shoulders slump at the heated whisper next to his ear. “_What?_” He turns to look in the same direction as whatever it is Oikawa’s staring at. It turns out to be Kyoutani, stomping towards Yahaba.

“What?” he says again, letting his disinterest show clearly this time.

“No, no – keep looking, I’m sure… Yes, you see?!”

“See _what?!_”, Iwaizumi shoots back, even though he knows what Oikawa’s referring to. “And _stop pointing_ at them, they’re not zoo animals.”

Kyoutani is currently presenting Yahaba with a filled water bottle, pushing it against his chest with just a little too much force – which means he half gives, half _launches_ it at him.

“He’s trying to be gallant.”

Oikawa sounds so perplexed – If it weren’t for Iwaizumi’s current exasperation, he’d have laughed at him for it. His almost-laughter turns into a groan when Oikawa’s eyes light up with enthusiasm. “_Oh my god,_ is he trying to court him? He is, isn’t he?! See?! I told you _months ago_ that this would happen, Iwa-chan – you never listen!”

“He’s just giving him a water bottle, Tooru.”

Oikawa Tooru pays no mind to his boyfriend’s tiredness. “No, I’m sure, Iwa-chan, I meant it! He’s trying to court him! I have a nose for these things.”

“You know he’s not _actually_ a dog, right, shittykawa? And he’s just being nice? Kyoutani isn’t a bad kid, he’s just–”

“-just like you, Iwa-chan!”, Oikawa nods sagely. “And, since you’re both so brutish, even small acts of kindness can be of immense–“

*_oof!__* _

_“_Hey?! Don’t hit me?!”

Iwaizumi ignores him, grabbing the setter by his neck and dragging him away from the talking second-years.

“You _know_ I’m right about this, don’t you?”

Iwaizumi doesn’t entertain him with an answer, hoping his boyfriend’s attention will refocus on whatever mayhem Hanamaki and Matsukawa are causing during the short break. He actually does believe Oikawa’s theory – mainly because of the conversations he’s had with Yahaba, but he also thinks that his kouhais won’t be helped by the two of them staring as Kyoutani tries… whatever it is that he’s trying to do.

“Matsun, _what the fuck are you doing with my cell phone?!_”

‘Ah, nailed it.’

* * *

It takes until next Monday for Iwaizumi to remember that pulling Oikawa away from something when he’s already made up his mind, is a feat that he has yet to accomplish.

Oikawa’s staring at the second-years again, watching Kyoutani hurry in cleaning his part of the gym, so that he can help on Yahaba’s part too. He wakes from his contemplations when a hand slowly curls around his hip.

"You know, Iwa-chan... I think it's time for another house party."

Iwaizumi sighs. "Haven't you put them through enough already, Crappykawa?"

Oikawa tuts. "I'm having a great idea here, Iwa-chan, isn't it your job to support me?"

"Not if your ideas are shit." Iwaizumi's clipped voice doesn't entirely register, betrayed by the way his thumb is slowly caressing Tooru's hip.

“I’m not going to meddle?” Oikawa’s voice pitches higher at Iwaizumi’s raised eyebrow. “I wasn’t going to! Really! I just think a house party might bring… Possibilities? The right atmosphere? _Stop staring_ at me like that, you know what I mean. I really think-”

Iwaizumi would never get to know what it was, exactly, that Oikawa was thinking, as they are suddenly interrupted by Hanamaki’s grinning face supporting itself on the setter’s left shoulder. “Did I hear the words-?“

“-House party?” Matsukawa lazily finishes the sentence.

Iwaizumi’s silence confirms their suspicions, causing their grins to turn dangerous. “And what’s the joyous occasion?”

“Kyouken has a crush on Shigeru. I’m just presenting them with an opportunity to-”

Their little group attracts the attention of the last few stragglers in the gym as Hanamaki and Matsukawa burst out laughing. Oikawa’s jaw slacks in shock, making Hanamaki laugh even harder.

“What are you even laughing about? I’m being serious?!”

“I hope so! It’s funnier if it’s true.”

“Well then,” Matsukawa wheezes, trying to regain his breath, “d’you wanna bet who confesses first? I’m going with Shigeru.” He tries to high five Hanamaki, but ends up patting him on the head as the other boy is still laughing too much.

Oikawa eyes them suspiciously. “Do you know something about this? Has Yahaba come to you too, or-?”

Matsun sighs as Hanamaki’s laughter turns to chuckles, watching the wing spiker wiping his eyes before answering: “Shig’ is a lot of things, but he ain’t subtle. He stares at Kyoutani’s ass _way_ too much for it to be purely aesthetic appreciation.”

“And also; we kind of overheard him talking to Watari over lunch, a couple of weeks ago”, Hanamaki interjects. He quickly explains himself further as Oikawa’s stare turns to ice. “We weren’t trying to! We just overheard them and then left, it was more of an accident, really. He doesn’t know that we know, we think.”

“Well then?” Matsukawa’s staring at them questioningly. “Are you going to throw that party or not?”

“My parents are leaving town on Saturday,” Oikawa says, thinking hard. “I’m quite sure that they’ll allow me to-“

“You should tell him.”

They all turn to look at Iwaizumi, who’s kept quiet during the rest of the conversation. He’s considering his friends with a serious expression. He seems to realize that what he said was confusing, because he clarifies: “You should tell Yahaba that you heard him. Don’t scare him off with your shit – this isn’t a _game._”

Hanamaki narrows his eyes as Matsukawa blandly puts his hand on his chest, feigning being offended. “Auwch. You hit us right in the feels, Hajime.”

Issei continues talking before Iwaizumi can interrupt again, “We aren’t _stupid_. We know it isn’t a game. And besides – if we tell him that we know, we can also bestow _our precious wisdom_ upon him.”

“Yes!”, Hanamaki cheers, “He will be _forever grateful_!”

“Surely.”

Iwaizumi rubs his temples. It’s going to be a _long_ week.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The complete third-year Dream Team has arrived and is totally ready (with the exception of Iwaizumi) to interfere in this Kyouhaba madness :v
> 
> Please let me know what you thought of this chapter in the comments (or on my Twitter or Tumblr, if that's what you prefer)! ^^


	4. I need the conclusion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“Very cute.” Kyoutani can hear Yahaba’s grin in his voice as he mumbles, soft enough that the others won’t hear. Probably. Hopefully. He doesn’t know what to do but stare as Yahaba’s impish face appears in front of him again. He’s the only one who doesn’t seem to care about all of this. “Sakura still wins though, sorry.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey hey! :)
> 
> The base concept for this chapter has formed the very start of my fic and was an idea I've loved for a long time.
> 
> I was heavily influenced by [BTS's 'Idol'](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pBuZEGYXA6E)to get myself in a correct party mood during the writing process :p
> 
> I hope you like the update and that you'll have a wonderful week!

_ (2 weeks ago) _

It doesn’t do well to keep secrets from Iwaizumi. Or, that is to say; to try and keep secrets when they’re impacting your life on too big a scale. The third-year has had too much practice on bull-headed setters trying to hide their injuries.

Yahaba fidgets – his fingers flying to the collar of his uniform, where the lack of a zipper reminds him of his visible nervous tics. He really should do something about those. He twirls his fingers awkwardly at the neck of his jersey before letting his hand drop down again – still staring at the back of their team’s ace, who is collecting loose volleyballs while Oikawa’s putting away chairs.

Asking his questions during the third-years’ clean-up had seemed like such a good idea last night, but now he’s wondering if he should just… ask another time. focused focussed 

‘Yes’, Yahaba nods to himself, ‘that’d probably be better. Interrupting them would be rude and all, yes…’ He takes a single step backwards, ready to turn and get _the hell out of there,_ when a pointed sigh draws his attention.

“Running away isn’t a good look on a captain, you know.”

Yahaba cringes. This wasn’t the way he wanted to open this particular conversation. He straightens his back as Iwaizumi turns, a playful grin on the spiker’s lips. “What is it?”

“Ehm…” He really should have listened to his inner voice. This is such a bad idea, no matter how many times Oikawa told him he couldn’t explain to him how to confess – he’d never had to do it before, after all.

“I wanted… tips?”

“Are you _saying_ or _asking_ that?”

Iwaizumi’s grin broadens at Yahaba’s helpless shrug, before turning softer – calming. “This isn’t about volleyball, is it?” He waits until Shigeru shakes his head before suddenly exclaiming: “Shit… Is this about our discussion from last week? I didn’t want to scare you, or anything. I wasn’t really angry, but sleep is important, Yahaba, and you looked dead on your feet. I won’t leave you to lead a team if you don’t take care of yourself first. It’s unhealthy.”

Yahaba studies his senpai, relaxed by the change in tone. He wonders if this is what having an older sibling feels like? Them taking care of you in an almost brutal way; uncaring if you can see the need for it yourself, accepting no excuses –his mind flicks to Oikawa– and still annoying at the same time. Would Kyoutani’s sister be like that?

The thought jolts him back to his current conversation, and he blushes at Iwaizumi’s questioning stare. “It’s stupid,” he mumbles, “it’s… personal.”

Iwaizumi cracks his neck before settling into a more relaxed stance. “That’s okay. Is this where you finally tell me what has been on your mind?”

Yahaba frowns, unsure why the ace is dancing around the subject. He was sure Oikawa had told his boyfriend about their conversations – the timing of Iwaizumi’s speech about getting enough sleep when dealing with personal issues had been a little _too_ perfect.

“I wanted to ask-“, he _hates_ the feeling of blood rushing to his cheeks, quickly finishing his sentence before Iwaizumi can comment on his flush, “-ehm, about confessing. About how you confessed, I mean.”

“To Oikawa”, he adds in an afterthought.

“Oh.” Iwaizumi blinks rapidly. It’s his turn to turn red now. “So you want to confess? To a… boy, then? Can I ask who-…?”

Yahaba’s frown deepens again, and he crosses his arms defensively before saying: “Kyoutani”. He blurts it out like the name _itself_ is taboo; the syllables forcing themselves past his lips without his permission to do so.

“Hmm,” Iwaizumi nods, “yeah, that isn’t too surprising.”

Yahaba has had enough of Iwaizumi’s weird reactions. He’s too stressed out _not_ to question the other boy’s motive of acting dumb. “You don’t have to act like you didn’t know already.” “-Senpai,” he adds quickly – trying to lighten the curtness of his tone.

“Well, I thought I saw something happen over the last few couple of days – but to say that I _knew_ would be-“

“What? But I thought…? Oikawa-?”, he trails off.

Iwaizumi’s grin turns slightly feral – displeased with the idea of anyone underestimating his partner. “Oikawa may be a blabbermouth, but if he promises to keep a secret, he does. That includes not telling me - so what’s up? What is it _exactly_ you want to know?”

“How did you-? Like, what did you do? Exactly? To tell him?”

Iwaizumi deflates a little, scratching the back of his head as he chuckles. “Ah, yeah, well – I don’t think I’ll be of much help, if you’re thinking of copying me. Looking back, it might’ve been a bit… excessive.”

Yahaba burns with curiosity, but something in Iwaizumi’s posture tells him to refrain from asking any more questions.

“So you don’t-? Is there nothing you could share, or tell me to-?” Yahaba cuts himself off – trying and failing to keep the anxiety out of his voice.

Iwaizumi sighs, sympathetic to Yahaba’s obvious stress. “Just… Talk to him. Be honest. Keep it simple – keep it 'you'. Don’t make things too complicated. Kyoutani doesn’t seem like one for grant and complicated gestures. You can keep those for later.”

Hope builds so quickly in Shigeru’s chest that for a second it feels like he’s suffocating. If Iwaizumi says… After Yahaba, Iwaizumi’s the guy who has spent the most time with the grumpy wing spiker. “You think he’ll say yes?”

“I don’t… know”, Iwaizumi’s words are careful – it’s clear that he doesn’t want to make any baseless statements. “I can’t tell whether he’ll say yes for sure, of course, but I do think that he likes you more than any other member of the team – including me.”

Yahaba swiftly licks his lips, unsure how to react.

“Kyoutani is… very selective about the people he’ll listen to, but he listens to _you_ – far better than he did with me. Your words seem to affect him, and you didn’t even have to enter strength competitions to get him to listen.” He snorts in amusement at the thought. “They have an effect on his behaviour, that much is clear at least. He’d never tried to fit into the team before your little stunt during the match against Karasuno, no matter what I said to him.”

He laughs as Yahaba’s face twitches. “Don’t worry about it – it was the right approach at the time. He’s grown a lot.” Iwaizumi’s chest swells; visibly proud of the progress his kouhai has made. “All in all, I’d recommend you don’t wait too long. Even if he doesn’t reciprocate, you’ll feel a lot better afterwards. I know as much as anyone how exhausting waiting can be. Ah, and don’t tell him I said all this stuff, I don’t think it’ll go over well.”

“Okay, I will. Thank you, Iwaizumi-senpai.” Yahaba nods respectfully, ready to get out of the gym. He feels stupid for thinking there was a shortcut to success. It seems like he’ll have to do it on his own after all.

Iwaizumi is still watching him – unhurried to go assist Oikawa, who has started taking down the net. “I mean it, Yahaba; don’t wait too long. You don’t have to hurry either, but don’t postpone it if you think you’re ready. If he accepts, you’ll be happy you took the jump, and if he doesn’t, it’ll give you more time to heal before practice starts getting busy again. Don’t let stress ruin your last year of high school.”

Yahaba nods again, feeling like his spirit is watching his body move from a couple of metres away, instead of actually controlling his muscles. Oikawa’s sudden need of attention has never been so welcome.

“Iwa~chaaaaaaan!? If you don’t come help me _right now_ I’ll be too tired to do that _dance_ _move_ you wanted me to-”

_“Shut the fuck up, Shittykawa!”_

Iwaizumi shoots Yahaba one last mortified look before marching away in the direction of Oikawa’s grinning face.

“And _please_ – don’t ever let him pull embarrassing shit on you, like that idiot over there, or it’ll start taking years off your life every time he opens his mouth.”

“Rude, Iwa-chan!”

“Shut up, Tooru.”

“Don’t lie! You never want me to shut up when-“

“-NO! NOT MY HAIR, Iwa-chan!”

* * *

**Karaage Ken, (20:01): “It’s a trap”**

**Yahaba Shigeru, (20:01): “What? Why?”**

**Yahaba Shigeru, (20:02): “Uve only come to ONE of his parties be4?!”**

**Karaage Ken, (20:02): “Yes. That’s my point”**

**Karaage Ken, (20:02): “was 1 too many”**

**Yahaba Shigeru, (20:03): “Come ooooooooooooooooooooooon”**

**Yahaba Shigeru, (20:05): “Are you scared or smth?”**

Kyoutani glares at his phone. Oikawa had spent the 10 minute break during practice inviting the whole team to one of his famous house parties. Well… Famous to them, at least. Everyone had been ecstatic about it – but Kyoutani knew something was up. Oikawa had stared Kentarou down during the announcement – like he was daring him not to come. It had felt like a challenge, and it’d been weird. It’s not like Oikawa would put in effort _specifically_ to annoy Kyoutani – it just came naturally to him most days. That meant there wasn’t anything to fear, really. But still, something had felt… off.

Suki licks at his fingers; trying to gain more of his attention where the dog’s lying on his back on Kentarou’s bed – ready for more belly rubs. Kyoutani hums distractedly, letting his hand pet downwards from the light beige fur at Suki’s neck to the dark black covering his dog’s belly in the same tint as its head. Suki wiggles contentedly as Kentarou starts to type out a reply.

**Karaage Ken, (20:07): “I aint scared, wth?”**

**Karaage Ken, (20:07): “What’s there to be scared abt?”**

**Yahaba Shigeru, (20:08): “Dunno, the games?”**

**Yahaba Shigeru, (20:09): “I wasn’t sure if you liked that stuff”**

Kentarou flinches. For all his reluctance about joining, he hadn’t even considered the games. They always played some weird drinking game, or something of the sort – the third years stubbornly insisting that you couldn’t hold a party without it. It wasn’t like they had a hard time convincing the others.

‘What a shit idea’, Kentarou scoffed mentally.

**Karaage Ken, (20:10): “Dnt feel like drinking just bc of sme stupid game”**

**Yahaba Shigeru, (20:16): “You dont have to? Kindaichi nvr does either?”**

“Tsk.” He should’ve known. Even with how influential the third years are, they’re very strict on alcohol control when it came to the first and second-years, never letting them get further than tipsy at most. Watari had gone over his limit, once, and the ass-whooping he’d gotten afterwards had been… memorable. Nobody tried after that particular incident.

**Karaage Ken, (20:20): “Whatever”**

Worry about lowered inhibitions isn’t the only thing holding him back, though. There’s the challenges too. They’re never truly mean, just funny to most. And he knows that everyone can refuse them at any time, but… They’re mostly things that are funny when you have to do them around _friends_. And it’s been only a frighteningly short time since Kyoutani has started to consider some of his teammates as such.

A traitorous voice in the back of his mind reminds him of the positive aspects which the games provide. Everyone knows that The Games are how Oikawa and Iwaizumi got together. Kyoutani isn’t _100%_ _sure_ what happened exactly – something about Iwaizumi interjecting when Oikawa was dared to kiss an upperclassman, but he-… Ice-cold horror slowly spreads through Kentarou’s veins at the possibility of this particular challenge repeating itself. Oikawa and his crew aren’t known to enact challenges like that – only doing so with people that are completely fine with it, but with the way Yahaba’s been with them-? _What happens if they think-?_

‘Maybe he can go… just to look? To check that they don’t make Yahaba… That he doesn’t…’ Kyoutani scowls. It’s not like he could easily prevent anything from happening – not when he refuses to join the game itself, but maybe… if Yahaba saw him watching…? As if feeling Kyoutani’s internal struggles, Yahaba texts him again – delivering the final blow.

**Yahaba Shigeru, (20:22): “Come ON!! It’ll be fun”**

**Yahaba Shigeru, (20:22): “promise!”**

**Yahaba Shigeru, (20:23): “It’ll be nicer if ur there 2”**

It isn’t exactly a “please”, but it’s as close to one as he’s going to get. Kyoutani groans, feeling like he’s signing his own death sentence as he slowly types out his response.

**Karaage Ken, (20:39): “Fine.”**

* * *

Saturday comes even faster than he expects it to. It’s like one instance he’s getting ready for Wednesday practice, and the next he’s standing in front of Oikawa’s house – scowling at the doorbell like it has just insulted his late great-grandmother.

It’s a blessing that Iwaizumi is the one opening the door, and not Oikawa.

“Kyoutani! You’re here, great!” He slaps Kentarou on the shoulder, hard, before using his grip to steer him in the right direction, letting the door fall closed behind them. “Most of the others have been here for a while – they’ve already started.”

Kyoutani grunts, his nerves finally catching up with him. He’s starting to doubt if this was a good idea after all. Maybe Iwaizumi felt him tense, because he suddenly mumbles: “Relax, okay? It’s supposed to be fun. Tooru won’t bother you – I’ll stop him if he tries.”

Kyoutani drops his mask, nodding a couple of times gratefully in quick succession.

“It’s the second door on the left. Want something to drink?”

“Just coke.” “Please,” he adds quickly, looking away as Iwaizumi grins.

“Coming up. I’ll go get it – you go find a seat somewhere.”

Kyoutani misses his presence the second Iwaizumi steps away, but he isn’t pitiful enough to say something about it. He won’t be able to beat Iwaizumi if he stays dependant on him, after all.

*

“Kyouk_-tani_! Finally! Come sit-”

Everyone turns to look when Oikawa cheers, giving Kyoutani the feeling that he’s just walked into a spotlight he was unaware of until it was shining in his face. He sees Watari wave at him, close to the door, and he quickly drops down next to the libero – happy when the others turn back to face the inside of the circle.

He wonders if Oikawa was trying to give him a false sense of security by using his surname – like Kyoutani _hadn’t_ heard his slip up. Idiot.

He doesn’t like it when Oikawa tries to be considerate; at least when he’s using his cutesy nicknames, Kyoutani knows what to expect. He looks up, only to notice that Oikawa’s still watching him. An odd thought about mind readers flashes through his head, causing him to twitch when Oikawa winks at him before turning to the bowl again. _‘What the-‘_

“Now that Kyouken’s here, I think we should take a little break, so he can add his challenges.”

Watari moves closer to him – starting to explain the game while the others revive the conversations that had halted at Kyoutani’s arrival.

“-right? Kyoutani?”

“Huh?” Kyoutani turns his face back to Watari, dragging his eyes away from Yahaba who’s waving at him from where he’s seated a bit further away, at Watari’s right side. “Yeah. Yeah, sure, I get it.” It’s not like these games are all that hard anyway. He gets the general gist of it.

Watari’s eyes crinkle as he looks from Yahaba to Kyoutani, but he doesn’t comment. “Okay. So you should probably start thinking about the challenges you want to add. Keep in mind that you might pull out one of your own papers too – so maybe not make them too horrific.”

“’kay.” Kyoutani takes the pen that Watari’s offering them, together with a torn piece of paper.

“Just tear it into three pieces. We’ve already had 4 rounds and we’ve each added 7 when we started.”

Watari backs off, letting Kyoutani think over the instructions he’s supposed to write down. It’s harder than it looks. So far, he only has _‘Go on Facebook live and read the back of a shampoo bottle’_, because he knows that his sister has had to do that once. He had thought that he was just going to be subjected to the third-year’s whims – not that he’d have to invent the challenges _himself._

Kyoutani’s reminded about his earlier worries when Iwaizumi hands him his coke before returning to his seat, holding beers for Oikawa and himself.

“When do you have to drink?”

He intended for the question to be answered by Watari – but it’s Hanamaki who responds, apparently listening in from where he’s leaning against Matsukawa.

“It’s not obligated, if you don’t want to. You can get two drinks and choose whichever – or just drink coke. It’s one swig when you’ve finished your challenges, 3 in case you failed and 5 if you refuse.”

Matsukawa’s grin appears next to the spiker’s. “Those last two are why we have multiple glasses. But still; ‘takes off the edge. ‘t helps with the embarrassment.”

Kyoutani huffs. “Like you guys are capable of feeling things like that.”

It causes the duo to burst out into laughter. “We’ve been caught, Matsun!? What will we do now that we’ve-?” Oikawa’s high pitch halts whatever Hanamaki was about to say. “Makki! Let Kyoutani write his challenges first, you can annoy him afterwards!”

*

It takes a couple more minutes and some suggestions from Watari to add 5 new papers to the bowl in the middle. The rest of the circle had added a couple more too. Kyoutani fiercely hopes that he won’t draw his _‘Put toothpaste on the handles of Mizoguchi’s car’_, who lives a couple houses down the street. He’d like to survive next practice, thank you very much. The challenge to _‘Run around the building without your pants’_ might be a bit childish too, but still – he had to write down _something_.

*

Things start getting crazier after the next couple of rounds.

Most of the circle is tipsy by now, and Kyoutani looks on while Iwaizumi tries to breakdance, backed by the loud cheering of their teammates. They’ve been following the order that they’ve seated themselves in; going clockwise over all players until everyone’s been challenged.

‘It hasn’t been that bad, overall’, he thinks, watching Yahaba fish out a piece of paper with his eyes closed. It turns out that he has to open the front door and howl like a wolf for at least 20 seconds. The others are already crying with laughter before he has even started – but Kyoutani’s oddly impressed by Yahaba’s efforts. He’s prettier than ever when he turns around again – sporting a triumphant grin to match his wild hair and rosy cheeks. It takes Kindaichi stumbling into him for Kentarou to regain his movement, feeling slightly buzzed himself as they return to their seats.

He thanks the gods that Watari’s the one who pulls out the next paper – forcing him to do a nonsexual lap dance to the most ridiculous music he can think of. He wonders if the writer added the ‘nonsexual’ to stop their senpais. Truly – Watari pulling this paper is a blessing on multiple levels. Watching the libero dance on top of Yahaba while listening to Barbie Girl is a great excuse to watch Shigeru without being awkward about it, and it also makes him laugh harder than he’s done in weeks. The same can be said about Yahaba, whose head has turned so red from holding in his laughter that Kyoutani’s starting to get worried about the other boy’s ability to breath properly.

And then… it’s finally his turn again. He reaches for the bowl, pulling out a note as the others start to regain their breath again. Kyoutani hasn’t had any of the more embarrassing challenges so far, ‘but fate is determined to fix this’, he thinks, as he reads out the scrawled letters on his piece of paper.

“Give the current or future ace a kiss on their forehead.”

He turns to glare at Watari, whose chicken scratch can be recognized anywhere, only to see Yahaba glare at the libero too – his face still blood-red from the laughter during the previous challenge. He wonders why-

‘Ah.’ His mind clicks. ‘Of course. He’s probably jealous about the whole ‘kissing Iwaizumi’s forehead thing’. It’s not like the challenge itself matters _that_ much to Kyoutani. He’s used to giving kisses on the cheek – his family being more affectionate than most, but still; the only other boy he’d ever kissed on the cheek had been Kousuke, and that had ended…

“So, Kyouken-chan? Will you do it?”

Kyoutani looks up, staring right into Oikawa’s wide grin. The setter seems more than fine with the idea, so he turns to Iwaizumi instead, the ace’s grumpy expression fading when he shrugs.

“You don’t have to. But I’d rather have you than one of _those_ idiots.”

Kyoutani shuts out the insulted “Hey” from his left as he scrambles up from his pillow. ‘This is probably the weirdest thing I’ve ever done’, shoots through his head, as 8 pairs of eyes watch him shuffle past Watari and Yahaba so that he can reach his senpai.

“Let’s get it over with.”

Iwaizumi’s calm baritone enables Kyoutani to relax. And he’s relieved, for just a second, that it’s not the other member of their captains’ duo who he has to kiss.

The kiss itself is short - Kyoutani backing away from Iwaizumi’s forehead like he’s burned himself, only a second after his lips have touched warm skin. The whole ordeal looked more like a head bud than a sign of affection.

It doesn’t seem to matter to the others though, and they still cheer for him when he completes the challenge. Oikawa laughs at whatever face Kyoutani’s making at the moment, poking him in the side when he flees back to his seat.

The next challenge gives him little rest though, as he struggles to put on Hanamaki’s tank top, who had to _‘Exchange shirts with the person on your right’_.

‘It’s clear who’s come out of this the better’, Kyoutani muses, as he hands over his black band shirt and looks down at the pastel coloured monstrosity currently hiding his torso. Hanamaki truly is the _only_ _one_ _of them_ who’s able to rock clothing with multi-coloured flowers. The top is long enough in itself, but far too tight – and Kyoutani feels like someone has trapped him into a straightjacket.

The group’s attention finally moves to someone else when Matsukawa pulls out his note – gleefully announcing that he has to flirt for at least two minutes with one of his neighbours.

Kyoutani can see Kindaichi’s shoulders sag in relief when Matsukawa turns his back to him and leans right towards his boyfriend instead.

“Really? Ain’t that a bit weak, Issei?”

“Are you saying you want me to seduce someone else, ‘Hiro?”

They’re interrupted by Oikawa, who doesn’t grant Matsukawa any time to prepare. “We’ll start the timer in 3… 2… 1…”

“Hey there baby, d’you come here often?”

Hanamaki’s lips tremble, but his expression smooths out after a couple of seconds, glancing away disinterestedly as he replies: “Not really no.”

“What grave injustice?! We could’ve had this wonderful meeting far sooner if you had.”

“You’re only providing me with more reasons not to return, you know.”

Matsukawa huffs before straightening up, pulling his shoulders back and acting like he’s going to start some sort of meeting. “I won’t be daunted by your sharp tongue, my love. Please, allow me the opportunity to convince you otherwise. Behold! – I’ve made a long list of testaments to my affections for you. They’ll melt your heart, I’m sure!”

Hanamaki grins lazily as the others snicker. “You just turned into a dramatic romance movie character… Well? Let’s hear it then?”

“Certainly! Prepare to be utterly wooed!”

“Thou art like the sun! Radia-“

“Ye.”

“What?”

Hanamaki’s grin widens as he interrupts Matsukawa’s flamboyant intro after only a couple of seconds. “It’s ‘ye’. ‘Thou’ is informal. Shouldn’t you be a bit more polite if you want to court me? It’s not like we’ve known each other for years, or anything. I’ve rarely seen you before, after all.”

Matsukawa deflates a little at the rebuke. “Methinks that you are a fucking stern teacher.” He raises his hand when Takahiro goes to correct him again. “Rest assured that any mistake which passes my lips is solely because I’m overwhelmed by the strength of my affections for you.”

“1,5 minutes to go!”

“Ah,” Matsukawa coughs awkwardly, “let’s return to the task at hand”.

“As I was saying – thou art like the sun. Radiant and fair,-” Matsukawa’s pompous behaviour is insufficient to distract the team from the way he leans closer and closer to Hanamaki, his hand trailing from the spiker’s jawline to his neck. “-warm, and-,” apparently it isn’t enough to distract Hanamaki either, because he slaps the middle blocker’s fingers away from where they’re dancing around his collar bone and drawls: “-and if you get any closer you’ll die an agonizing death alone. I’m a lady of _class,_ you know? Hands off!”

“I don’t know if sarcasm is a skill, my love, but if so - you’ve certainly mastered it.”

“I don’t think my parents will allow us to be wed, if this is how you’re going to woo me.”

“But… Then all of this would be for naught?! Ah, what should I do to ensure my success, beloved?”

“You can start by making me laugh, and we’ll see where it goes from there.”

The tone of the conversation changes, and Kyoutani looks on as Matsukawa drops his efforts to sound fancy, his ‘compliments’ getting more and more ridiculous in his attempts to get Hanamaki to laugh. “I like how big your forehead is, it makes you look smarter” and “Your voice is mesmerizing; it’s even deeper than my depression” are only a couple of the things he comes up with.

“I expect far better compliments from a suitor of mine.”

Matsukawa pauses for less than a second after receiving this response, immediately firing back: “You look like what John Legend sounds like”.

“… Acceptable.” Hanamaki’s mouth twitches, not really a smile yet, and the sight of it gets Matsun even more fired up. His compliments start to come faster when Oikawa shouts that there’s only one minute left.

“You’re cooler than a childhood secret handshake.”

“You may not be perfect, but your weirdness matches mine and that’s close enough.”

“I pretty much only feel comfortable when I’m around you – you’re like the sweatpants of my life.”

“You could never be ice cream. Because you’re too hot. And also a person.”

“Do you believe that beauty from within is more important than outside appearances? Because I do! And it makes you… tolerable.”

That last comment finally gets a raise out of Hanamaki. “Fuck you, Issei.”

“Fuck me yourself, you coward!”

The jab gets Hanamaki to clench his jaws, but he holds back his laughter just in time.

“10 seconds! 9… 8… 7…”

Hanamaki’s eyes widen as his boyfriend reaches for the back of his neck, pulling him closer to start whispering something in his ear. Even Kyoutani can’t make out what the middle blocker is saying.

“-2… 1…”

Kentarou quickly turns away at the soft laugh Hanamaki breathes out – only audible because he’s seated right next to him. His expression… it’s too soft for a game like this. It feels almost indecent to keep looking at them, so he doesn’t. Yahaba must’ve thought the same, because he whips his head away from their part of the circle, the second Kyoutani turns to look at him.

*

Kindaichi’s up next – his face changing colours faster than a speed light when he’s tasked to _‘put the most attractive person in the group on your lap’_.

Kunimi’s grumbled “I’ll get you back for this,” gets overshadowed by the cheers of the teammates surrounding them. It’s his own turn next, and he stays seated in Kindaichi’s lap as he tries to perform a famous aria from an opera to the best of his abilities.

Kyoutani isn’t entirely sure why everyone is laughing as hard as they are, when Oikawa pulls and reads the next order out of the bowl out loud.

“Call one of your enemies and give them a true compliment.”

_“WHO DID THIS TO ME?!”_

It takes more than 10 minutes for Oikawa to stop whining about ‘Yahaba’s betrayal’, as he’s named it, and choose who he’s going to call.

“I don’t want tooooooo-, Iwa-chan save me from this!?”

“Shut up Shittykawa.” The smile on Iwaizumi’s face is one of fond exasperation. “You should’ve done this a long time ago.”

“Put it on speaker!”

“And don’t lie, it has to be honest!”

“You don’t _have to_ do it if you don’t want to…” Oikawa pointedly ignores Kindaichi’s mumbling and quickly clicks the speaker button, right when the audio lets out a clear click. The ringing stops, and a tired hum echoes through the room.

Oikawa doesn’t hesitate. “Tobio.”

“Whuh? Oi-,” Kageyama’s questioning tone is interrupted by his own yawn, before finishing confusedly; “Oikawa-san? What is-?”

“Listen here, Tobio-chan! It’s important that you know that I’m _not_ doing this out of my own free will, but-”

“Free? What? Are you in _trouble?_” The young setter is sounding a lot more awake already, and Iwaizumi jumps in before he misunderstands the situation.

“Don’t worry, Kageyama. He just has to tell you something, because of a challenge. It won’t take long.”

“Right-,” Oikawa takes over again, “so… Uhm…”. He looks physically pained – his face red and blotchy as he flexes his jaw. Kyoutani wonders why he’s making such a big deal out of this. He knows that Oikawa and the Karasuno setter don’t really get along, but _really? _It’s not like Kageyama can see him or anything.

“So, I needed to… apologize.” Oikawa’s face cringes as he tries to push on – Kyoutani doubts he’s ever seen him this out of his element before.

The speaker makes a weird static sound before- “Is this a joke, Oikawa-san?”

“It’s not. Part of the challenge was to be honest – and I’m trying to be; so please be silent until I’m done. I’m… sorry. For how I treated you in Kitagawa Daiichi. Even if you were acting like a little bitch sometimes, you were still my kouhai and I should’ve guided you more than I did. You were only a first year, and I-” Oikawa breaks off for a second. There’s complete silence on the other side of the phone line; they can’t even hear Kageyama’s breathing, but there’s no doubt that he’s still listening. “Well. Anyway. Regardless of the fact that you and your shrimp are ‘stupid incarnate’; you have a setter soul, and I think… I believe that you’ll get where you want to go, in the end. Even if you’ll never be as great as me – _obviously._ But you’re coming pretty close, I guess.”

Kyoutani scoffs. ‘Typical Oikawa; can’t even give an honest compliment without putting in _something_ derogatory.’ He stubbornly ignores the multiple voices in the back of his mind that are disputing this statement. ‘Only idiots let their pride stand in the way of honesty.’

Everyone is staring at Oikawa’s phone where it’s laying lonely in the centre of the circle. The other side of the line is still quiet.

“… Thank you.” Kageyama’s voice cracks as he answers, and Oikawa’s eyes widen. It seems like he hadn’t expected his words to have such a big impact. Or maybe it’s because the other boy is tired?

“I’ll go back to sleep then…” Kageyama’s voice is more brusque now, probably embarrassed that he nearly started crying. “Goodbye.” *click*

A weird hush falls over the room. No one’s really grinning anymore – instead, it feels… Kyoutani doesn’t know.

“Next challenge.” Oikawa’s voice betrays nothing, but Iwaizumi still curls his right arm around the captain’s waist as he reaches forward to pull out his own challenge.

The idea of Iwaizumi crying seems to cheer Oikawa back up a bit. In Kyoutani’s opinion, this only confirms the setter’s abnormality. Kentarou waits as Watari giggles next to him. “This is going to be so weird.”

Despite all the jokes that Iwaizumi never shows any emotion besides anger, it takes the ace only about 3 minutes before tears start slowly dripping down his cheeks. It’s a quiet affair – even the fall of his teardrops is soundless.

Oikawa’s smirk turns into a worried frown as he watches his boyfriend cry in silence. “Hey? That’s enough, Iwa-chan. Iwa…?”

The rest of the group starts to fidget uncomfortably too, holding their breath in unison as Iwaizumi wipes at his eyes and takes a deep breath to calm down – Oikawa still hovering next to him and caressing his cheek. “Hajime? Are you okay? What were you thinking about?”

For a second, there’s a silence so thick that it seems to cloud the room – leaving everyone immobile. And then… “I was thinking about your shitty pickup lines.”

Oikawa’s insulted cries are muffled by the sound of everyone bursting into laughter.

“Hey?! Don’t scare me like that?!” He tries to sound angry, but the relief in their captain’s voice is more than obvious.

“Shouldn’t have put that challenge in then, dumbass. Did you really think I wouldn’t recognize your handwriting?”

Kyoutani tunes out Oikawa’s whining when he sees Yahaba stand up to take a piece of paper. His next task is almost ridiculously simple compared to the previous ones.

Nope. He was wrong. 7 seconds are all that Kyoutani needs to see the error of his previous thoughts. Really – doing a handstand for 20 seconds didn’t sound so bad, but he hadn’t counted on Yahaba’s shirt _betraying him_ by following the laws of gravity. He doesn’t know where to look. He doesn’t want to _stare_, that’d be weird, but looking away while all of the others are watching would make him stand out even more. It feels different from catching a glimpse while redressing after practice. More… He doesn’t know, just _more._ The only positive side to this situation is the (surprising) fact that Yahaba is a lot more muscular than his ‘pretty boy persona’ would suggest. He’s really… He looks-

Kyoutani doesn’t even know if he truly wants to look away, or if he wants to keep looking forever. Preferably somewhere private, without the others; just him and his– and Yahaba. It feels like centuries have passed when Shigeru finally slumps down on the floor again, receiving a slap on the back from Watari for a task well executed.

Watari’s round passes quickly. His task to tickle the person in front of him until they cry wasn’t a long one, even though it was fairly entertaining to watch Kunimi struggle to keep his composure.

“Next, next!”

Kyoutani reacts automatically, bending forward to reach for the bowl. He can feel the scraps of paper flitting between his fingers when he moves to pluck one out, until-

“Every day is Cat-urday”

Kyoutani frowns as the reads out the line, confusion clear in his eyes when he lifts his head, only to narrow them in suspicion when he notices the awkward glances everyone’s throwing him.

“Ah… Uhm.. Hmm. I’ll get it.” Oikawa’s one of the few who is behaving fairly normal, walking to the other side of the room to fetch a little box and return. He puts the box in front of his crossed legs and opens it, only to pull out-

It has a bell. A fucking _bell_. Kyoutani stares at the black velvet collar that’s currently dangling from Oikawa’s fingers. He does remember this, from the single time he came to a party, and from inside jokes which he heard in the clubroom. It’s a challenge that repeats itself at every game – the one who gets the task just wears the choker-like collar-thing, bell and all. It doesn’t have any other meaning, except for-

‘Collared like a dog, huh.’ Nobody says it out loud, but he can hear them all thinking. Even Oikawa seems to hesitate, fiddling with the necklace as he observes Kyoutani with that calculating gaze of his. It’s just a joke, right? It doesn’t mean… They wouldn’t laugh at him because…?

Kyoutani’s connection to the rest of the team has gotten a lot stronger, but that still doesn’t mean he wants…  
_What the fuck?._ This is bullshit. It’s just a _stupid necklace_, not a leash. He just-… His eyes lock onto Yahaba’s – and whatever the setter sees there encourages him to move; giving a slow nod, his gaze still solely focused on Kyoutani.

Kyoutani’s shoulders relax as Yahaba takes over, pulling the thin choker from Oikawa’s limp fingers right as the captain starts to say: “You know you can refu-”

“I ain’t gonna lose because of some stupid necklace.” According to Oikawa’s quick blinking, that answer wasn’t what he expected, but his expression morphs into a grin nonetheless.

Kentarou stiffens when he feels Yahaba’s cold fingertips at his nape, stretching the stupid necklace over his throat so he can close the clasp in the back. The rest of the team still looks like they’ve turned into statues – barely breathing as they watch Yahaba fiddle with the small clasp at the back. The brunette drags his finger over the collar when it’s closed, checking that it isn’t too tight. Or at least, that’s what Kyoutani _thinks_ he’s doing, until-

“Very cute.” Kyoutani can _hear_ Yahaba’s grin in his voice as he mumbles, soft enough that the others won’t hear. Probably. Hopefully. He doesn’t know what to do but _stare_ as Yahaba’s impish face appears in front of him again. He’s the only one who doesn’t seem to care about all of this. “Sakura still wins though, sorry.”

Kyoutani cocks his head as he squints at Yahaba’s grin, only to be startled by the tinkling noise that the movement produces. His genuine bewilderment does have some merit though – as most of the circle suddenly bursts out laughing, finally breaking the tension that was still lingering in the room. Kyoutani has the inexplicable feeling that he’s just passed some sort of friendship test he didn’t know he was participating in.

“Who knew you’d be the choker type? Perfectly matches the pastels though.”

“Shut the fuck up.” Kyoutani only lets Watari go because he’s feeling merciful, not because Yahaba’s laughter was distracting him. Not at all.

“My tuuuuuurn!”

Hanamaki nearly _jumps_ forward, seemingly energized by the laughter still faintly ringing in the air.

“Spank someone (once!) of your choosing.”

Most of them just bury their face in their hands as Hanamaki starts cackling like a maniac. “Your time has come, Hajime! THIS SHALL BE MY REVENGE FOR EVERY TIME YOU CHEATED AT ARM WRESTLING!” He shoots a quick look at his boyfriend – Matsukawa giving his permission with a shrug and a quick nod before Hanamaki steps out of the circle. Iwaizumi isn’t intimidated to say the least.

“I didn’t cheat, you shit. You’re just a sore loser.”

“ACCEPT YOUR PUNISHMENT, PEASANT!”

* * *

Everything starts to blur together after that. People slowly but surely start pulling out challenges whenever they want to, abandoning the circle system altogether. Kyoutani’s fine with just watching them make fools of themselves. He’s the one suggesting Matsukawa takes a picture with a trash bin, when he’s tasked to change his profile picture so it’ll include a random object.

“Ah, yes! That’s great, Kyouken, thanks!”

“WHY DID YOU TAG ME IN THIS?!”

“Shut up Tooru, you know it’s the truth.”

*

Kindaichi’s the one who pulls Kyoutani’s challenge, causing him to end up reading the back of a shampoo bottle on Facebook live.

Kunimi gets his revenge with the next challenge, choosing Kindaichi as his victim when he reads out that he has to ‘get someone to blush as quickly as possible’. The glint in his eyes is outright _vindictive_ and Kindaichi sits there helplessly as his friend moves back to his lap so he can start whispering in his ear.

The rest of the team stares at them with either dread or fascination as Kindaichi’s whole face starts to flood with colour. In contrast, Kunimi’s face is carefully blank. Based on his lack of expression and his quiet tone, no one can make out what he’s saying. Kyoutani isn’t sure if he _wants_ to know what the wing spiker’s saying either.

Kunimi only relents when Kindaichi’s face looks like it’s letting off steam, turning to rest his back against his friend’s chest again, utterly pleased with himself. Kentarou’s never seen anyone look that smug and sleepy at the same time.

Iwaizumi’s the one who goes next, getting tasked to call the person he appreciates the most in life. The ace hums as he pulls out his phone, Oikawa’s boasting uninterrupted until Matsun’s ringtone starts playing.

It has to be noted that Kyoutani isn’t a superstitious person - but he’s starting to doubt his convictions at the screech of betrayal that leaves Oikawa’s lips when Matsukawa picks up. That _has_ to result in some sort of curse or bad omen.

“But I’m your _boyfriend_?!”

The group’s silence is filled with anticipation as the last tones of Oikawa’s screeching ring in the air, ready to see how this plays out. Hajime’s face betrays nothing as he talks into his phone, Matsun raising his brow at him from the other side of the circle.

“’this Matsun?”

“Why yes, it is. How can I help you, dear fellow?”

“Well first, by dropping the shitty accent. Also - could you please give your phone to Tooru before he implodes? His shrieking is getting annoying.”

The anticipation that hung in the air gets blown to pieces by the laughter that escapes the team at Oikawa’s expression when Matsun tosses him his phone.

“That’s so _MEAN_, Iwa-chan!! You’re evil! I’ve been saying it for years! You’re-”

“Shut up, idiotkawa? Like it could’ve been anyone else.”

Kyoutani ignores most of it, using the distraction the ruckus provides to think back to his earlier challenge – letting his mind return to the voice in his ear. It seems he didn’t have to worry about the risks of drinking games after all – Yahaba hasn’t done anything truly weird as of yet. And he’d… The way he’d mumbled in Kentarou’s ear, that’d been… It has to mean _something_, doesn’t it? He also hasn’t had any stupid interactions with their senpais, so maybe Kentarou could… Could what? Act like Kunimi and go sit in Yahaba’s lap when the right challenge strikes? Kyoutani isn’t a coward, but _that’s_… Coming to the party has been a good idea after all. It’s quite nice and it-

“You up for it, Shige-chan?”

“Uh-”

“You can always say no, Yahaba – no one’s gonna blame you for escaping 7 minutes with Oikawa in a closet.”

“Agreed.”

“_Shut up, Mastun! Makki!_”

-it’s the fucking worst decision he’s ever made. Time seems to slow down as Kyoutani raises his head, already knowing what sight is going to meet him when he does. He looks up just in time to see Yahaba nod his head. Kyoutani feels like a hole has opened up at the bottom of his stomach. Yahaba’s… His hair is still mussed, and his eyes shine from his earlier laughter. If he’d been Oikawa, he’d have chosen Shigeru too. If he’d been _anyone_, he’d choose Yahaba. Iwaizumi’s now the only thing standing between Yahaba and-

“Don’t take it too far, Tooru. You’ll scare him off.”

“I know what I’m doing Iwa-chan?! This is exactly what he needs, trust me.”

Kyoutani doesn’t trust him at all. He just looks on, horrified at his own inability to… say something. _Do_ something. It’s not like he’ll still have a chance after this happens, right? He might have had a chance before, but if Oikawa… If they-

“I don’t think this is necessary, Oikawa-san. I still remember everything that-“

“Shush! Lots more to learn! Lots more to do!”

The laughter around them fades away as Kyoutani watches Yahaba shaking his head before following after Oikawa, who’s hiccupping with laughter at his own stupid comments. Shigeru’s head is getting redder with every step that he takes. Kentarou’s fingers twitch. If he said ‘remember’, then does that mean-? They haven’t fully left the room yet, haven’t opened the door to the storage room – he could still-

*click*

Hanamaki cheers as the door closes, Matsukawa tapping the stopwatch on his phone.

“Seven minutes in heaven start now.”

“Hell, you mean.”

It’s like the door is breaking some sort of enchantment when it falls shut, and Kyoutani bends forward, the metaphorical weight on his shoulders dragging them down to his knees. This… It’s bad, but he’s no child. He can manage this. He’ll just wait until they return. Nothing will happen. Kyoutani’s stronger than this.

The rest of his teammates move on – already starting the next challenge instead of waiting for Shigeru to reappear. He tries to focus on Kunimi’s rap about broccoli, but his attention keeps slipping away – drawn to the door in the right corner.

_“~Beyond a wall of green food, life is defined. I think of love when I’m in a broccoli state of mind~”_

He cracks after three minutes. The nausea he feels is nearly overwhelming at this point, and he’s glad his hands aren’t visibly trembling when he pushes himself up, ready to escape this room and go- just go somewhere else. Someplace where he can _breathe_, away from all this shit.

There’s a hand on his ankle when he turns to leave, Watari’s eyes meeting his when he looks down in surprise. Kentarou feels, more than sees Watari’s flinch when they make eye contact, and his ankle’s released at once. A distant part of his brain wonders what his expression must look like – wonders if he looks as _miserable_ as he feels, for Watari to react like this, but most of him doesn’t care. He mumbles a low “bathroom,” before taking off – ready to be anywhere but here.

*

He ends up in the garden. The air’s nice and cool, a soft breeze refreshing on his face as he slides the backdoor closed behind him. The Oikawa’s’ taste may be gaudy, but their garden is absolutely beautiful.

He steps off the porch, trying to concentrate on the rustling of leaves and the grass beneath his feet, instead of whatever’s going on inside. Whatever Oikawa’s doing with-

Kyoutani clenches his teeth so hard that his jaw aches. He should’ve gone home instead. Going back inside now would make him feel like an idiot though, so he looks for a place to sit for a moment. Nature has always calmed him down whenever he’s feeling distressed. This may not be the park near his house, but it’s better than nothing.

He eventually plops down next to a rosebush, overshadowed by a tall beech tree. The red pointed leaves filter the light of the streetlamps behind the Oikawa’s’ fence, casting dancing shadows over the plants around him. Kentarou leans back against the bark, letting his head roll sideways to inspect the greenery on his left. He’s surprised when he hears a light tinkling sound. Turning to look around, he feels a wave of anger wash over him as he realizes it’s from the necklace. The _stupid fucking necklace_ that Yahaba had fastened for him, while he breathed down Kentarou’s neck, and he’d said… he’d looked…

Kyoutani’s fingers shake as he struggles to take off the necklace. For a second, he considers just tearing it off, but right as he’s about to lose his patience he feels the little closure shift beneath his fingertips, the bell giving a last tinkle as the choker drops into his lap. He stares at it for a second before roughly shoving it into his pocket.

His following attempts to distract himself are only meagre at best. He just can’t help it. No matter how pretty the sleeping roses are, no matter how hard he tries to concentrate on the sounds of nightlife around him – his mind flees back to that storage room every few seconds. He’s been staring at the same rose for the last couple of minutes; a final effort to vault himself into forgetting – into concentrating on something else than the gaping hole in his chest and the pain that comes with it.

It’s stupid. _He’s_ stupid. The rose is just as stubborn as he is though; flower petals still opened to show off a bright yellow core, softening to dark orange and pink in the petals – ignoring the fact that it’s night and the petals should be closed right now. Kyoutani’s glower turns listless. Isn’t he just like that flower? Trying to convince himself that anything can change, that he can just do whatever he wants, that he can just ignore what’s happening around him, and expect the other flowers to follow? Was he just trying to blind himself from the truth?

He shakes his head a little, eyes still transfixed on the rose petals. It’s just a plant. Creating melodramatic comparisons doesn’t change anything. That flower may act as it wants, it doesn’t influence the buds around it. It can’t choose. It’s hopeless. Helpless. Unlike Kyoutani…

Could he still choose? For the first time since Oikawa pulled that idiotic challenge, Kyoutani lets himself confront the worst that might happen. Even if they’d… Fulfilled the task. It’s just… kissing. That’s all there is to it. No matter what jokes the third-years make, he doesn’t think Oikawa would go much further than that. Not with all their teammates sitting next door. Not without Iwaizumi.

Hope slowly starts to rebuild in his chest, trying to fight the nausea and bitterness still lingering there. If he could choose… What if it turns out that Oikawa’s just a really shitty kisser, and Yahaba doesn’t want him after all? It’s a little farfetched, but not impossible. _‘As long as you have the slightest chance…?’_, his mind adds helpfully, _‘as long as Yahaba is willing to give it a shot, would you still-?’ _

_‘Yes.’ _His mind hasn’t even fully sketched out the idea when he already knows the answer. As long as there is a chance, as long as he has a shot at making this all work out, he’ll fight for it.

Kyoutani’s frown deepens when the petals in front of him start to darken. He blinks at them in confusion, until he realizes that the darkness is created by new shadows, overlapping with his own. A shadow of someone that must be standing right behind him, if they create a shade this dark.

A voice calls out before he has time to do as much as twitch, and Kyoutani’s stomach floods with a mixture of dread and adrenaline. He’s uncertain if it’s the most _welcome_ or _unwelcome_ sight that could greet him right now, as he leans his head back to look at the boy behind him.

“Found you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know what you think!
> 
> In case someone was wondering: I want to say that I know that the legal drinking age in Japan is 20 y/o, but it’s 16 in my own country and so that's what I went with in this story :p
> 
> Ps: for the rare people who want to know: Kunimi was singing (click to 0:40) ['Der Hölle Rache kocht in meinem Herzen' from Mozart’s ‘Die Zauberflöte’](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NbmtT9VWfKw)as his aria :')


	5. That you'll fight for it!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Yahaba feels almost sorry for Iwaizumi when the other third-years’ grins widen in unison. “Shigeru is too young and naïve to listen to you, bro. If you don’t watch out with your advice, he’ll make Kyoutani cry like you did with Tooru when you-” _
> 
> _"Will you guys EVER shut up about that?"_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, thank you to one of my dearest friends; Buddy-Sharono-Na-wa, for all your help in creating the challenges for the circle game in the 4th chapter!
> 
> I also want to wish my sister 'Flagerato' a super-duper happy 22nd birthday! (even though it's almost a week ago now, but that doesn't matter imo. :p) - thanks for being there in my life; I love you a lot and I pray every day that your future may be as brilliant and wonderful as you are. 
> 
> I hope that you all had a wonderful week and are ready for this chapter! ^^
> 
> Edit: Hey folks! Just a small note I wanted to make; if you're someone who dislikes writing a comment on AO3 and who'd rather tweet about my fic, I really would love to read those threads - just @ me and I'll read them for sure! I've read one long thread about my Ushiten fic and One shorter one about my Kyouhaba work, which I almost didn't see bc I wasn't added. Reading thoughts on my work gives me a lot of energy and generally gets me super excited and happy ^^ - I don't mind if it's criticism either (as long as people remain polite) - so please, if you have any thoughts about my works; I don't mind where you post your comments, as long as I have a way to find out where they are ;) - thank you! 💚

_ (5 hours ago) _

Yahaba’s saving arrives in the form of Iwaizumi, who comes striding over the second he sees the captain-to-be cornered by Matsukawa and Hanamaki

“Please do me a favour and don't listen to these idiots.”

The graveness of his tone does nothing to diminish Hanamaki’s enthusiasm. “Go away Hajime, we’re trying to give some lifesaving advice here.”

“Yes! Ignore him Yahaba – we'd only ever serve the _best_ ideas to the next leader of our beautiful Seijoh,” Matsukawa declares with a hand over his heart.

“Besides, d’you really think you'd be able to offer him better advice than we can, ‘oh dear Iwa-chan'?”, Takahiro scoffs.

Iwaizumi narrows his eyes. “Stop that. And why _wouldn’t I_ think that? I know how to confess.”

Yahaba feels almost sorry for Iwaizumi when the other third-years’ grins widen in unison. “Shigeru is too young and naïve to listen to you, bro. If you don’t watch out with your advice, he’ll make Kyoutani cry like you did with Tooru when you-”

"Will you guys EVER shut up about that?" A deep flush starts to creep up Iwaizumi’s cheekbones as he scowls at the two of them. “You guys have no right to talk! Not after you convinced me to send those stupid cards. _ANY_ idea is better than whatever shit you two come up with.”

Yahaba feels like he’s watching a tennis match as his face continuously turns form Iwaizumi to Matsukawa and Hanamaki, who are forming one front to combat their ace. He’s almost afraid to ask, but his curiosity wins out from his common sense in the end. “What are you guys-?”

“It was so _greeeaaat!_ He LOVED it – there’s no reason to complain about it now. We promised it would work, and it _did_, didn’t it?”

“It was still… too excessive.”

“There’s no such thing as too extravagant when we’re talking about _love,_ _Iwa-chan!_” Hanamaki grins and lets Matsukawa continue the story as he quickly dances around his boyfriend’s back – a wall of middle blocker forming a shield between him and the now heavily scowling ace.

“We got him drunk and convinced him to send Oikawa as many alien related valentines cards as we could get him to write before he fell asleep.”

“It was _HUMILIATING!_”

“Excuse you?! it was perfect!”

“It was a _stellar_ plan, if you ask me. Tooru loved it.”

“Yeah, he truly was _over the moon_.”

Yahaba’s still observing them with a perplexed look on his face. “How do you even _write_ alien related valentines cards?”

“Oh, you know, shit like: ‘You’ve abducted my heart’ and ‘You make me want to Believe’, and ‘I’d travel the universe with you’.”

The speed with which they sum up the examples should be unsettling, but it’s actually kind of impressive.

“And I'm sure Tooru's thank-you must have been _out of this world_, by the way – so there’s no reason for all the menace-” Hanamaki ducks out of the way before Iwaizumi can reach far enough to punch him.

“So anyway,” Matsukawa continues – ignoring the others, “We really do stand by what we said before. Do it on your own terms – don’t wait until jealousy or stress forces it out of you. That doesn’t work too well, generally speaking. Coming clean helps; even if it takes a while for you to get there. You’ll know when it’s time, I guess.”

“… Okay?”

Matsukawa nods sagely, turning around to drag his boyfriend to safety from where Iwaizumi is currently holding him in a headlock.

“Right. Now that that’s finished – where’s the beer at?”

*

Yahaba frowns at Iwaizumi in confusion. “Watari said he just went to the bathroom.”

“Yes, about 20 minutes ago.”

He looks Yahaba straight in the eye. “I came back from the kitchen at just the right time to see him leave. He looked pissed as fuck. I know he isn’t the most forthcoming with his emotions, but he wasn’t hard to read this time – he’s been mad ever since you walked off with Oikawa.” He clicks his tongue as Yahaba keeps staring at him blankly.

“_Well?_ You don’t _have_ to do anything right now – even if you wait now, you’ll have more chances in the future. But you told me earlier that you wanted to confess? That you’d do it, if there ever came a correct time or chance to say something – do something? If you're waiting for a sign; this is it. Go after him and _do something.__”_

* * *

Kyoutani doesn’t say anything as Yahaba moves to sit down by his side. He’s still facing the roses, but his eyes are unseeing – white static curling around the edges of his mind.

Yahaba doesn’t appears to have any patience for white static or confused thoughts. Or maybe he just doesn’t care about Kyoutani’s awkward non-reaction at all – because he leans in close to take a better look at the flowers too, brushing Kentarou’s right bicep with his shoulder as he moves forward to watch.

The static turns into a current of electricity, pulsing through Kentarou’s veins and causing him to cramp up, pulling his shoulders up in a defensive motion. Yahaba doesn’t notice, demolishing Kyoutani’s efforts to create a little bit of distance between them when he scoots back to his earlier position, their thighs now fully touching. Kyoutani has to forcefully hold himself back from shoving Shigeru away – concentrating instead on repressing any and all twitches or shivers as he listens to the setter’s thoughtful humming.

“Pretty~”

The amount of cheesy pickup lines that start racing through Kyoutani’s mind is overwhelming. He forces himself to keep staring at the flowers instead, his voice strained as he grunts out a: “yeah”.

Speaking of clichés - the urge Kentarou feels to turn his head and stare at Yahaba’s profile is nearly irresistible. How _pitiful_. At what point did he turn into… Whatever this is? The need to see the setter’s face gets stronger with every second that goes by. He wonders if anything has changed, in the short timespan that they were apart. If he’ll look different, somehow – if it’ll be obvious, what he was doing a couple of minutes ago. Kyoutani’s tongue darts out, swiftly licking his bottom lip as his mind takes him further, to even worse possibilities. He’s unsure if he really wants to see? If he wants to know what happened?

Frustration at his own cowardice crashes through Kentarou’s body. _It doesn’t matter._ That’s what he’d decided. If he can’t even look Yahaba in the eye right now, saying that he’ll continue his pursuit is pointless. Kyoutani balls his fists, taking in a deep breath before glimpsing at Yahaba.

His breath leaves him in a long, steady flow as he watches his friend. Shigeru doesn’t look like someone who’s just been kissing their captain for almost 10 minutes. Then again, it’s not like Kyoutani has any practical knowledge as to how that would look anyway.

Yahaba’s cheeks are rosy, but that could have been caused by several things. His mouth doesn’t look very red or anything either. So it means they didn’t necessarily… It could mean…?

“Your face might stay stuck like that if you keep up that expression.”

“What?”

“Your face,” Yahaba repeats, his grin diminishing at Kyoutani’s curt answer. “You look like you’re suffering.”

“’That so?”

“What? Are you constipated or something?”

The grin drops completely when Kyoutani doesn’t play into the jest, his teasing tone changing to worry instead. “You _are_ okay, right?”

Kyoutani nods quickly, suddenly desperate to stop Yahaba before he starts leaning in _even more_ in his worry. “I-“

He doesn’t want to lie. But telling the truth isn’t exactly the best option either, so he settles for a middle ground. “-just needed to get some fresh air.”

“Oh. So that’s why you were gone, then?”

Yahaba seems to take his silence for affirmation, because he continues: “’guess I understand. I couldn’t wait to go outside, after that shit Oikawa pulled.”

“You didn’t look like you minded much.”

It’s getting harder to keep the bitterness out of his voice; to keep his jealousy from slipping through. Yahaba notices that something’s off this time, appraising him with a raised eyebrow as he says: “Well at least _you_ didn’t get stuck with Oikawa trying to _‘give you advice’_ for way too long.”

Kyoutani’s fists unclench in his surprise. “What? What advice did you need?”

Yahaba’s earlier flush starts to darken, spreading to the bridge of his nose and the tips of his ears.

“I didn’t ask him for it, you know. You know how he is – ‘needed to ‘share his wisdom with his precious kouhai’, or whatever it was he was saying at the time. I don’t know where all of his brainpower goes whenever he gets tipsy, but apparently he thought… He thought that I needed…”

Yahaba’s cheeks darken even more, and Kyoutani’s the one leaning in this time – intrigued by his setter’s reaction.

A short, embarrassed laugh bursts out of Yahaba as he tries to force out the rest of his explanation. “I just– look, I talked to him, about… some stuff. You know; about guys and… yeah, so – he apparently thought that I needed an updated version of _‘the talk’_.” He looks at Kyoutani imploringly, as if begging for support while talking about his obvious hardships. Kyoutani’s too stunned to say anything, so he just blinks while Yahaba goes on with his story. “-with all tips and tricks and _WAY_ too many details that I _really_ didn’t need to know about.”

Yahaba lets himself slump backwards; his back hitting the grass with a dull thud as he pushes his hands over his face. His voice comes out muffled as he continues: “I thought Matsukawa and Hanamaki were bad. I don’t know how I’ll ever look Iwaizumi-senpai in the eye again after _that_ amount of information.”

Cold, sweet relief washes over Kentarou. ‘That was it? That’s all it was? A fucking sex talk? _That’s_ what he was agonizing over?’ The comfort that this new knowledge brings is so stark that he feels kind of numb by the sudden disappearance of his anxiety. The realization that he hasn’t lost anything, that _nothing_ has happened, fills him solely with elation. The combination of those two facts fills him with a weird sort of power – protecting him from his earlier worries. He bites the inside of his cheeks as he watches Yahaba move to sit back up again. Maybe he should just run with it? Worrying hasn’t gotten him anywhere, thus far. He’s sick of it. Sick of acting like a coward. It’s not who he is – not who he wants to be.

“I’m gay.”

If he’s surprised Yahaba by suddenly blurting out his secret, the setter doesn’t let it show. He simply straightens his spine, sitting tall and unmoving as his eyes flit all over Kyoutani’s face. A corner of his mouth twitches, as if suppressing a smile.

The silence goes on long enough for Kyoutani to get nervous again. He can feel the nausea slam back into his stomach as he realizes that Oikawa had thought that Yahaba _needed_ this information. That his kouhai had talked to him, about… things that gave him a reason to believe… Does that mean Yahaba has a crush after all? He pulls his shoulders up, trying to physically push away his newfound worries. He’ll think about it later.

Shigeru’s still watching him carefully as Kyoutani comes back to himself. He hasn’t said anything to respond to the news. Not that he really _needs_ to, it’s just…

“You aren’t reacting much.” The statement is just that – a statement. A dry observation. It carries no emotion, and Kyoutani is glad that he at least _sounds_ calm, even if he isn’t.

“Did you expect me to?”

Kentarou lifts his shoulder in a half shrug. “I don’t know, I’ve never really told a friend before.”

“It’s… I guess it’s just that I’m not all that surprised. I suspected, sorta.”

Yahaba finally lets his smile break through. ‘It’s weird how intimate such a small gesture can feel’, Kyoutani thinks dizzily. He tries to ignore the implications of Yahaba’s suspicions, concentrating on the more positive note instead.

It feels _good,_ to have told Yahaba. He feels freer, somehow. The other boy is quiet again – looking at Kyoutani with a familiar head tilt that means he wants the blond to continue talking.

“’m sorry I haven’t told you before.” He sees Yahaba open his mouth and goes on before he can be interrupted. “I’m not ashamed. It’s who I am. I don’t really care what other people think about it, I just didn’t… I don’t know. It felt weird to randomly tell people, it’s not like it matters.” He watches as Yahaba slings his arms around his knees, resting his chin on top of them as he attentively listens to Kyoutani’s voice.

“I’ve known since I was 9. My family knows too. They don’t… They understand. It’s not like… It isn’t a secret or anything. That’s not why I haven’t told people. It’s just none of their business.”

“Mhm. That’s why you didn’t tell the team, then?” Yahaba’s eyes are glinting in the dark, flickering with something Kyoutani can’t decipher. “-because it’s none of their business?”

“Ya.”

Shigeru’s expression doesn’t change much, outwardly, but Kyoutani still feels like he’s made a terrible mistake as he watches whatever was shining in those brown eyes flare back up again.

“Why are you telling _me,_ then?”

Kentarou has never wished for the ability to swallow his own tongue quite as much as he’s doing at the moment.

There’s no explanation – no excuse that he can give. And even if he tried, Yahaba knows him. He _knows_ him. He’ll see right through whatever shitty story Kyoutani tries to spin right away.

He ends up dismissively waving his hand, desperate for someone to interrupt them, even if it’s their nosy-ass captain. “Y’know-“ he huffs, his eyes darting away, hoping that Yahaba won’t comment on the fact that he hasn’t answered the question at all.

Yahaba lets him stew in his discomfort for a couple more seconds before changing the subject. He’s awfully cheery about Kyoutani’s awkwardness, and Kentarou wonders for the hundredth time how he ever fell for someone with such a shitty personality.

“Well, it’s not like you’re _required_ to tell anyone. I was just… wondering if you kept quiet because of team dynamics or outside opinions, or some shit like that.” He grins at Kyoutani’s “tsk” of disgust.

“’s not like that last one has ever stopped anyone on our team before.” Kyoutani’s scoff comes out more as huffed laughter – pitying the fool who’d try to tell Oikawa he can’t hold hands with his ace.

“I’m not… misreading this, right?”

“Hmm?”

Yahaba’s eyes bore into him. Kyoutani doesn’t know if he’s ever seen the other boy look quite like this – like Kyoutani’s the last hurdle standing in between him and the thing he wants most. The intensity of his stare is immense. Kentarou couldn’t look away if he wanted to. He rubs his hands on his thighs to ground himself, hoping his movements are more inconspicuous than they feel.

“The reason you’re telling me, I mean?”

Kyoutani’s chest constricts. He can feel his heart beating in his ears. There isn’t much room to misinterpret what Yahaba is asking, and it’s probably a good sign that the setter is asking it so calmly – he probably wouldn’t have put in the effort if he wasn’t interested, would he? Well, maybe he would – for team dynamics, like he mentioned before, but it still means he probably isn’t mad about it. Kentarou’s a bit uncertain what Yahaba expects him to reply, though. Does he want him to just come out and say it like-?

“I’m sorry if I’m putting you on the spot here. I just hoped, I mean I thought– I can’t afford to be confused, is all I’m saying.”

“Why-,“ Kyoutani croaks, coughing before repeating his question, “why’s that?”

“-didn’tcomeforthedogs.”

It comes out as one long incoherent string; the words too fast to decipher as they are mumbled against Yahaba’s knees. He seems to notice that Kyoutani couldn’t hear him correctly – heaving out a harsh exhale as he straightens back up again. He looks resolutely ahead – staring Kyoutani down like he’s ready to declare war instead of-

“I didn’t come around to see _the dogs_. When you invited me.”

Kyoutani stares. He waits for time to stop, or for the wind to quiet down – just like in those stupid movies his sister likes to watch. But the universe isn’t interested in Kentarou’s expectations about grand romantic gestures, and time ticks on.

Kyoutani’s eyes wander. A red hue is slowly creeping upwards from Yahaba’s neck, colouring his cheeks and climbing up towards his hair – still mussed from laying in the grass – while he waits for Kyoutani to react. He raises his chin a little, a clear challenge, and Kyoutani’s eyes are drawn to his jawline instead, lingering. He wonders if it’d be okay for him to-

Maybe time _did_ stop a little, because Kentarou feels like he’s been staring for hours while it can’t have been more than 4 seconds at most. When he finally _does_ move, he moves so quickly that he almost falls over – basically throwing himself forward, desperate to reach his goal before he chickens out again.

*

The tension that littered Yahaba’s body disappears as he bursts into laughter.

Kyoutani startles, scrambling upright so he can _run_. Go somewhere else, as fast as possible. Somewhere where he won’t feel like a _complete_ _idiot_. A hand at his wrist stops him before he can take a second step. Kentarou looks down reluctantly as Yahaba keeps tugging at his arm. He regrets it the moment he sees Shigeru’s wide grin. The corners of his eyes crinkle as he positively _beams_ up at Kyoutani.

“Wanna try that again? You know, without almost breaking our faces?”

Kyoutani’s cheeks burn and he turns away in a huff, refusing to meet Shigeru’s eyes any longer. Yahaba takes this as a sign to get up too, still sniggering.

To be fair – Kyoutani’s plan would’ve worked better if Yahaba hadn’t jumped halfway through, startled by the speed of Kyoutani’s movement, and causing their heads to slam together in more of an awkward head bud than the kiss on the cheek it was supposed to be.

Kyoutani tries not to shiver as Yahaba’s hand leaves his wrist and glides up to his shoulder instead, gently pushing as the setter tries to turn him around so they’ll face each other again.

“_Come oooon? _Like you wouldn’t laugh at me for _weeks_ if that’d happened.”

Kyoutani tenses, unable to hold back his shivers this time as Yahaba’s fingers slowly trail from his shoulder to the side of his neck.

“I’ll make it up to you~”

He turns at once, stunned at the way Yahaba’s tone had changed from teasing to sultry.

The other boy is still grinning, and it should irritate him. It really should – it’s _him_ he’s laughing at, after all. But the thought about what he should and should not feel all but vanishes, as he stares up at Yahaba’s annoyingly handsome face underneath the beech tree.

He looks absolutely fucking _stunning_.

The realization that this is happening – that he hasn’t been pushed away – that Yahaba might give them a shot, fills him with enough bravery to call the setter out on his promise.

“Well? Are you gonna do something, or-?”

All Yahaba’s bravado seeps out at once, leaving him weirdly bare. He almost stutters as he answers, making Kentarou feel like he’s just stepped into an alternate reality.

“Well- that’s- are you o-kay? With? Can I-?”

A terse nod is all the answer he needs.

Golden-brown eyes widen as Yahaba lowers his head, surprised when the other boy moves forward instead of a little to the side. Objectively, it was to be expected that Yahaba intended to kiss him ‘for real’, instead of just a little peck on the cheek like Kentarou’d attempted. Yahaba misinterprets the stiffening of his body as hesitation though, pausing to give him a worried look.

“You know it’s okay if you don’t want to-?”

Kyoutani jerkily shakes his head, closing his eyes. Maybe this’ll be easier if he doesn’t see what’s about to happen. Maybe his heart _won’t _beat out of his chest if he can’t see the way Shigeru’s face moves forward. Despite his attempts to relax, Kyoutani tenses up even more when he feels Yahaba get closer, his chest rising and falling with quickened breaths. 

“Relax.”

He shudders as Yahaba breathes the words against his cheek. They remain like that for a while, and Kentarou’s breath is just starting to slow down when Yahaba says: “I promise that we don’t have to do this if you-”

“No!” His eyes fly open – taking in the sight of Yahaba. _Close. Close. Close. _All quick breaths and hooded eyelids. They haven’t even _done_ anything yet, but he still looks… Kyoutani wants…

“It’s okay. I’m fine – I promise.”

Yahaba hums, and Kentarou waits patiently for him to move, only to realize after a short moment that the other boy isn’t intending to move at all.

Shigeru draws back a little when Kyoutani lets out a confused noise – holding still when there’s only a couple of centimeters separating their faces. It takes a single look for Kyoutani to understand what he wants. To read the question in his eyes.

_‘Whatever you want.’_

He wants Kyoutani to finish off the movement – wants him to raise up to the challenge. It’s always been like that between them after all.

Kyoutani’s gaze drops to Yahaba’s mouth for a second, before shooting up to look the setter in the eyes again – trying to steel his nerves. They carry the same shine from before. Kentarou wonders how he looks, right now. If his eyes are mirroring the longing he sees in front of him – glinting with a type of hunger he’s been trying to hold back for weeks.

He closes his eyes once more as he tips his head a little to the left – finally doing the one thing he’s been thinking of non-stop since the moment he realized he’d rather call Yahaba by his first name.

There are no head butts this time. No awkward bumping of their noses as he bridges the gap and feels Yahaba take in a sharp gasp against his mouth. No teeth clashing when their lips finally touch – languid and at ease, and far, _far_ calmer than they’re feeling right now.

The crease between Kyoutani’s brows smooths out as he concentrates on the dream he’s been chasing for weeks – finally here, right in his arms. He can’t hear anything except for his own heartbeat – his blood rushing so loud and fast it makes him dizzy. His heart stutters when Shigeru opens his mouth a little, his tongue lightly exploring the seam of Kentarou’s lips, humming contently as the blond lets him in. Kentarou’s hands tremble at the low groan Shigeru lets out, moving them from Yahaba’s waist to his head – fingers threading through brown hair. It doesn’t feel as soft as he expected; tiny knots causing him to struggle when all he wants is to glide his fingers through the strands. He tightens his grip, drawing Yahaba even closer as his left hand goes to rest on the setter’s lower back again. ‘Of course, even his _hair_ has to be obstinate’, he thinks, almost snorting at the thought.

Kyoutani has no clue how long they’ve been kissing when they finally break apart, both of them pulling away at the same time. ‘Shigeru should look like this more often’, he thinks dazedly, as he stares at Yahaba’s flushed face – his mouth red and slightly swollen from the unrelenting pressure. They’re panting like they’ve just run a marathon. It couldn’t have been better, except-

“Why are you laughing?”

Yahaba’s chuckles rise in volume at the clear suspicion in Kyoutani’s voice.

“I’m happy, you _idiot._ What do you want me to do? Cry?”

Kyoutani scowls at him as relief seems to melt into his skin, soothing an itch he didn’t realize was there. It calms him down. Yahaba’s words have probably had that ability for a long time, it’s just that he didn’t use them. Anyway, it’s comforting to know that their usual bitching won’t end, just because they’re… Because… Well, whatever they are.

Reluctance to discuss this new subject starts to creep up at him, chasing away the high that was still lingering after the kiss. He decides to take initiative, hoping to distract Yahaba from the long conversation he probably wants to have. That’s how these things go, right?

“Y’want to go back? It’s been quite a while – probably better if we don’t give the meme team an incentive to come looking for us.”

Yahaba’s stare is truly unnerving, this time around. Kyoutani feels like he’s staring right into his soul – like he knows _exactly_ what Kentarou wanted to avoid by proposing to return to the party.

“Yes, or Oikawa. Don’t really know which one would be better, actually.”

Kyoutani bites his cheek to keep his grin in check as Yahaba raises his voice to a higher pitch, waving his arms dramatically in an imitation of their captain. “Ah, my dear kouhai?! How _could_ you?! Sharing your innocent body with a scoundrel like this?! Out in the open?! Didn’t I raise you to be better?”

“Strong words from the guy giving you sex tips less than an hour ago.”

Yahaba laughs as he moves past him, ready to head back to the house. They walk side by side – not quite touching, but still close enough for their shoulders to brush every couple of steps.

They have a clear view of the back door when Shigeru pipes up again, his voice a mixture of Oikawa’s tone and his own.

“Don’t expect me to go easier on you during practice, just because of your new status, Ken-chaaaan.” He turns to look at Kyoutani – the smile on his face unable to hide the affection in his eyes. _‘Please understand. Whatever you want.’_

Kyoutani’s shoulders drop as he bumps into Yahaba’s arm. Hard. _‘Of course he’d notice. Of course he knows. Whatever Kentarou wants, huh?’ _He already has everything he could hope for. Isn’t their _‘want’_ the same?

“Fuck _off_.” The effect of his words is slightly weakened by the twitching of his fingers as he grabs Shigeru’s hand, weaving their fingers together. He knows what answer is coming. And he has his reply ready. He wants all of him.

“Fuck _you_.”

“Better take me on a date first, then.”

“Whatever you want.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to every single one of you who has gotten to the end of this fic. I really loved creating this story and I hope that you've enjoyed reading it! :) I know that I work quite slow, but I'm already busy on the second chapter of my third fic, and I don't plan on stopping writing any time soon! ^^ If you liked this work, I'd suggest trying out my earlier Ushiten fic or subscribing to my account, if you're interested in reading my future work.
> 
> Thank you for everyone who has commented over the last few chapters and who may comment in the future! I cherish all of your feedback!
> 
> Lastly, I want to thank Adeline again, because it is [her Kyouhaba work](https://archiveofourown.org/works/9442862) that started all of this. Please go check out her art on: [AO3](https://archiveofourown.org/users/doodeline/pseuds/doodeline), [Art Tumblr](https://doodeline.tumblr.com/), [Personal Tumblr](https://meridianae.tumblr.com/), [Instagram](https://www.instagram.com/doodelineart/) and [Twitter](https://twitter.com/doodelineart).

**Author's Note:**

> Talk Tendou to me! – You can do so in the comments or on [Tumblr](http://riseoftheplanetofthesnapes.tumblr.com/) & [Twitter](https://twitter.com/AsimiShadowborn)  
(Other subjects are welcome too, obviously :p)


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